The Doctor and Jo land on a cargo ship
crossing the Indian Ocean in the year
1926.
Or so they think.
Far away on a planet called Inter Minor,
a travelling showman is setting up his
live peepshow, watched by an eager
audience of space officials . . .
On board ship, a giant hand suddenly
appears, grasps the Tardis and
withdraws. Without warning, a
prehistoric monster rises from the sea to
attack . . .
What is happening ? Where are they ?
Only the Doctor realises, with horror,
that they might be trapped . . .
UK: 50p *Australia: $1.90
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Children/Fiction ISBN 0 426 11025 0
DOCTOR WHO
AND THE CARNIVAL
OF MONSTERS
Based on the BBC television serial The Carnival of Monsters
by Robert Holmes by arrangement with the British
Broadcasting Corporation
TERRANCE DICKS
published by
The Paperback Division of
W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd
A Target Book
Published in 1977
by the Paperback Division of W. H. Allen & Co. Ltd.
A Howard & Wyndham Company
44 Hill Street, London W1X 8LB
Copyright © 1977 by Terrance Dicks and Robert Holmes
‘Dr Who’ series copyright © 1977 by the British
Broadcasting Corporation
Printed in Great Britain by
Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading
ISBN 0426 11025 0
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not,
by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or
otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent
in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it
is published and without a similar condition including this
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
CONTENTS
1 Dangerous Arrivals
2 The Monster from the Sea
3 The Giant Hand
4 Trapped!
5 Inside the Machine
6 The Monster in the Swamp
7 ‘Nothing Escapes the Drashigs’
8 The Battle on the Ship
9 Kalik Plans Rebellion
10 The Doctor Takes Over
1
Dangerous Arrivals
With a strange groaning sound, the blue police box
appeared from nowhere. A very small, very pretty fair-
haired girl came out, and looked cautiously around. She
was in a dimly-lit, metal-walled enclosure, and the air was
full of strange smells...
A tall white-haired man, elegant in velvet smoking
jacket and ruffled shirt, followed her out of the police box
locking the door behind him. ‘I tell you there’s no need to
be suspicious, Jo. I’ve been here before and the air’s
perfectly...’ he sniffed, ‘... fresh!’ he concluded, on a rather
less certain note.
Jo Grant looked indignantly at the Doctor. Really she’d
only herself to blame. After the terrifying adventure of the
Three Doctors
*
, the Time Lords, the Doctor’s mysterious
and all-powerful superiors, had rewarded him by restoring
his ability to travel in Time and space in the TARDIS. As
eager as a child with a new toy, the Doctor had persuaded
Jo to accompany him on what he called ‘a little test flight’
to a very attractive-sounding planet named Metebelis
Three.
Jo looked around her. ‘Lakes like blue sapphires, he
says,’ she muttered. ‘Jewelled deserts and mountains of
blue crystal, he says...’ She turned back to the Doctor. ‘It’s
hot, it’s dark and it smells!’
The Doctor sniffed. No doubt about it, she was right.
‘That’s very odd...’
‘Sort of farmy,’ added Jo.
The Doctor sniffed again, and subjected the evidence of
his nose to a rapid analysis. ‘Nothing to worry about.
Gaseous sulphides in a fairly low concentration.’ He
*
See ‘Doctor Who - The Three Doctors’
rubbed his chin. ‘Very odd, that, Jo. I assure you, the last
time I was here, the air was like wine.’
Jo gave him another look. ‘Doctor, are you sure we’re
where you think we are? Can you really drive the TARDIS
properly without the Time Lords helping you?’
‘My dear Jo,’ said the Doctor huffily. ‘I don’t drive the
TARDIS, I programme it. And, according to programme,
this is Metebelis Three, famous blue planet of the Acteon
galaxy.’
Before Jo could reply, she became aware of a steady
thump, thump, thump, filling the air around them. ‘We’re
in some kind of a machine,’ she said. ‘And it’s moving!’
‘You’re right. Well, come on.’
Jo hung back. ‘Where are we going?’
‘To find out where we are.’
‘I thought you knew that?’
‘Well, I do. I just want to convince you, that’s all!’
They picked their way through the semidarkness, which
seemed to be filled with mysteriously-shaped lumpy
objects, most of them with sharp edges. There was a
sudden flurry ahead, and Jo clutched the Doctor’s arm.
‘Something moved!’
The sounds died down and they pressed cautiously on.
They came to a wooden pen, with feathered shapes
clucking inside. Jo laughed. ‘Look—it’s chickens! ‘
Solemnly the Doctor bowed before the cage. ‘Greetings!
We come as friends.’
‘Doctor, what are you doing?’
‘When you’ve travelled as much as I have, Jo, you’ll
learn not to jump to conclusions. These look like chickens,
but they could be the dominant life-forms on this planet.’
The Doctor leaned over the pen. ‘Greetings,’ he said again.
There was no reply.
‘Try clucking,’ suggested Jo. Before he could reply she
went on, ‘Doctor, those things not only look like chickens,
they are chickens. And what about this?’
She pointed to the side of a near-by crate. The Doctor
looked. Despite the gloom it was possible to make out the
stencilled capital letters. They read, ‘SINGAPORE’.
‘The Acteon Galaxy, you said?’
Taken aback, but not yet defeated, the Doctor looked
round. Near by, a ladder led up into the darkness above
them. ‘Come on, Jo,’ he said, and started to climb.
Shaking her head at his obstinacy, Jo followed, pausing
only to say a quick ‘Good-bye!’ at the chickens. They
clucked back at her.
At the top of the ladder was a hatch. The Doctor lifted
it. Behind him on the ladder Jo peered through the gap.
She saw decking, a rail, more cargo-hatches—and an
Indian seaman in shabby overalls walking past. ‘Metebelis
be blowed,’ she whispered. ‘This is just an ordinary old
cargo-ship, Doctor. You’ve landed us back on Earth.’
As the terrifying adventure which followed was to
prove, Jo had never been more wrong in her life.
Meanwhile, more arrivals were taking place...
The Spaceport of Capital City, on the planet called Inter
Minor, was baking in the heat of the planet’s twin suns. It
was a busy colourful scene as the massive cargo-rockets
loaded and unloaded in their separate bays. Ground cars
and cargo-trains scurried to and fro like ants at the feet of
the towering metal mountains of the great space-rockets.
Cursing and sweating, the Functionaries worked steadily
away, loading and unloading the cargo.
Capital City was in the middle of a boom. By decree of
President Zarb, the planet’s new ruler, Inter Minor had
emerged from its long self-imposed seclusion, and was
busily trading with the other planets in its galaxy. Many
years ago, the planet had been ravaged by Space Plague,
brought in by a traveller from some foreign planet. In a
hysterical over-reaction, the Inter Minorans had cut
themselves off completely from all other planets,
forbidding both travel and commerce. After years of bitter
political struggle, the new progressive party, led by
President Zarb, had come to power, and Inter Minor had
opened up its frontiers.
President Zarb hoped by this measure to relieve some of
the pressures on Minoran society. His other plans included
a gradual improvement in the lot of the Functionaries.
This meant persuading the Official caste to give up some of
their many privileges—an undertaking which was
provoking bitter resistance.
The strangest thing of all about this strange world of
Inter Minor was the fact that its people had been divided
for so long into two different social classes that they had
gradually evolved into two different species.
The largest class was that of the Functionaries. They
were short and stocky with coarse, lumpy,
unfinishedfeatures. They looked as if they’d been slapped
together out of rough clay, by a rather poor sculptor. They
wore rough serviceable clothing in heavy-duty plastic.
Their purpose, their function was to work. Work, food and
sleep, that was a Functionary’s life. For generations they
had accepted this fate uncomplainingly. But now things
were beginning to change...
Then there was the ruling caste—the Officials. They
were mostly tall and thin, grey-faced and grey-robed. Grey-
minded too, for the main part. The Officials’ code insisted
on rigid formality with all display of emotion totally
suppressed. They were the Officials, rulers by right and
custom. Not all, of course, had utterly closed minds.
President Zarb and his supporters were aware of the
necessity for change. But the bulk of the Officials were set
in their old ways. They had accepted Zarb only because
they hoped he would save them from revolution.
A thunderous rumble shook the Spaceport as yet
another cargo-rocket descended slowly on to its pad. As
soon as touchdown was complete, a cargo-shute was
connected to its main hatch, and an assortment of goods
began tumbling down, to be seized by waiting
Functionaries, hurled on to cargo-trains and driven from
the Spaceport.
From a viewing ramp, two Officials watched the process
with gloomy disdain. Their names were Kalik and Orum.
Kalik’s bored manner concealed fierce intelligence and
burning ambition, while Orum’s masked only complacent
foolishness. Kalik was small and wiry, while Orum had a
tendency to plumpness.
It was Kalik who spoke first. ‘The cargo-rocket we were
ordered to meet has arrived.’ Like all Officials, he had no
inhibitions about stating the obvious.
Orum nodded gravely. ‘One must prepare oneself to go
and encounter these—aliens.’ The last word came out as a
hiss of distaste.
Kalik sighed. ‘Reluctantly, one agrees.’
The two grey figures began descending the ramp into
the teeming confusion of the Spaceport.
Meanwhile, something very strange was happening at
the unloading rocket. On the cargo-shute had appeared two
unmistakably humanoid figures. Arms and legs waving
wildly they tumbled down the shute with the other
containers. At the bottom they scrambled to their feet,
waving away the Functionaries, who looked quite capable
of loading them on to a cargo-train without a second
glance.
First to reach the ground was a middle-aged, middle-
sized humanoid clad in tattered golden finery. Boots,
tunic, tights and cloak had all once been magnificent, but
like their wearer had seen better days. The humanoid, by
race a Lurman, by name, Vorg, dusted himself down,
gazing around him with keen alert eyes under fierce bushy
eyebrows, and stroking an equally bushy moustache.
Beside him a moment later landed Shirna, an attractive
young female Lurman. Her clothes too were ornate but
worn, and the many neat darns and patches showed a
desperate attempt to keep up appearances.
Shirna hit the ground in a flaming temper. Never a girl
to hide her feelings she lost no time in letting Vorg know
it.
‘Top of the bill, he says!’ she cried dramatically, looking
round at the hot and dusty Spaceport. ‘Treated like a star,
he says!’
Shirna drew a deep breath. She had plenty more to say.
Before she could get into her stride Vorg yelled, ‘Oh no,
the Scope! ‘ A gaudily decorated cylindrical object was
tumbling down the chute with the other cargo. Vorg
pushed aside a Functionary, caught hold of the Scope and
started lowering it gently to the ground. ‘Come on, Shirna,
help me,’ he yelled. ‘This thing’s our living, remember.’
Between them they managed to wrestle the Scope off the
chute and over to a small alcove under one of the ramps.
The Scope was a tallish, fattish cylinder just under the size
of a man. On top was an elaborate control-panel, inset with
rows of lights and switches. Viewing apertures were inset at
eye-level all round. There was a maintenance and service
panel low on one side. Flashy colours and elaborate
ornamentation gave the Scope the look of something
between a juke-box and a ‘What The Butler Saw’ machine.
And indeed, the Scope was a kind of peepshow—though of
a very elaborate and unusual kind.
Like its owners, the Scope had an air of seedy
magnificence about it. It was a technological wonder that
had come down in the world. Vorg was checking it over—
it was a temperamental machine and the journey might
have upset it—when Shirna jabbed an elbow in his ribs.
‘Look out—here they come!’
Vorg looked. Two grey-robed figures were threading
their way through the crowd towards them. Vorg saw how
deferentially the brawny Functionaries moved aside for
them. Immediately he assumed the humble and
ingratiating smile that was his inevitable response to any
kind of authority.
Vorg’s preliminary encounter with Minoran officialdom
was to be temporarily delayed. A disturbance had broken
out in the next cargo-bay. One of the Functionaries had
stopped work and had climbed up on to a ramp. This in
itself was a serious offence. The raised ramps leading to the
upper City were only for the use of Officials. Worse still,
the Functionary was daring to make some kind of speech,
distracting his fellows from their work. As if fascinated by
his audacity, more and more Functionaries were drifting
away from their work to swell the gathering crowd beneath
the ramp.
Vorg and Shirna could understand nothing of the
Functionary’s guttural speech, but judging from the growls
of agreement the crowd was on his side. Shirna glanced at
the two near-by Officials to see how they were taking all
this. To her horror, she saw that one of them had produced
a blaster from beneath his robes...
Kalik levelled the blaster and fired. The rebellious
Functionary swayed, slumped and crashed down on to the
crowd. They all drew back, terrified. A squad of uniformed
Functionaries, under the command of a Military Official,
pushed their way to the body and dragged it off. The
Functionaries returned to their work. The little rebellion
died away without trace, like the ripples from a stone
thrown into a pond.
Orum gave a satisfied nod. It pleased his sense of fitness
to see order restored. Casually he asked, ‘You eradicated
him?’
Kalik put his blaster away. ‘No, no. Merely rendered
him unconscious. Our Medical colleagues have asked that
all such specimens be taken alive.’
‘He will be disposed of?’ asked Orum worriedly.
‘Naturally. But first his mental and nervous system will
be analysed. Our colleagues wish to discover if some
disease or mutation is causing these outbreaks of rebellion.’
It did not occur to Kalik that it was not the rebellious
Functionaries who were abnormal, but the conditions
under which they had to live and work.
His conscience clear and untroubled, he put away his
blaster.
‘Now one must deal with these aliens.’
Terrified by this display of casual ruthlessness, Vorg
and Shirna quailed as the two Officials bore down upon
them.
2
The Monster from the Sea
Peering through the partly-open hatch, the Doctor looked
at the peaceful maritime scene around him. Everything
suggested that Jo was perfectly right. They were on a small
cargo vessel, probably in tropical waters. And yet...
‘Appearances can be deceptive, Jo,’ he warned. ‘I still
feel there’s something very wrong here.’
The small figure on the ladder below him gave an
impatient snort. ‘Something wrong with the way you steer
the TARDIS, more like it. We are still on Earth, aren’t we?’
The Doctor shook his head decisively. ‘No, that’s
impossible. We don’t seem to be on Metebelis Three, but
we’re not on Earth either.’
‘Never admit you’re wrong, do you?’ hissed Jo.
The Doctor grinned. ‘That’s impossible, too. The
sailor’s gone now. Let’s take a look around.’
Blinking in the hot sunlight, they climbed out of the
hatch, lowered it quietly behind them. They moved across
the deck of the little ship to the super-structure, and
stepped through a doorway. Now they were in a short
metal-walled passage. From an open door at the other end
they heard voices. ‘Splendid dinner this,’ someone was
saying in fruity English tones. ‘Absolutely topping.’
Jo and the Doctor crept along the passage and peeped
through the half-open door. They saw a small but well-
furnished saloon. Three people were sitting around the
table over the remains of a meal. An attractive young girl
was pouring herself a cup of coffee and a rosy-faced, white-
haired man in a rather rumpled tropical suit was pouring
himself a large whisky from a decanter. A handsome young
man in the uniform of a ship’s officer was listening politely
to the older man, but giving his real attention to the girl.
The older man, whose name was Major Daly, took an
appreciative sip of his whisky. ‘You say the cook’s a
Madrassi, Andrews?’
‘I believe so, sir.’ Lieutenant Andrews somehow
managed to give a polite reply to this question without
taking his eyes from the girl. Clare Daly, the Major’s
daughter, smiled, well aware of the young officer’s interest.
Daly nodded thoughtfully. ‘Find the Madrassi boys a bit
idle, meself. Won’t have one on the plantation. Still, I must
say your fellow knows how to curry a chicken.’ Daly
nodded towards the decanter. ‘Sundowner, old chap?’
Andrews shook his head. He glanced appealingly at
Clare Daly who smiled and took mercy on him. Finishing
her coffee she said demurely, ‘Lieutenant Andrews and I
thought we’d take a turn around the deck. Care to join us,
Daddy? It’s a glorious evening.’ Clare knew she was on safe
ground. It was highly unlikely that her father would
forsake his armchair and his book—to say nothing of the
whisky decanter.
Sure enough, Daly grunted and shook his head. ‘No,
you and young Andrews don’t need me. You run along. I’m
going to do a spot of reading. Determined to finish this
book before we reach Bombay.’
Clare laughed. ‘We’re due tomorrow, remember. How
much have you got left?’
‘Only another two chapters.’
Andrews stood up. ‘We’ll see you later then, sir. Come
along, Clare—twenty times round the deck is a mile!’
The Doctor and Jo saw him usher the girl through a
second door at the far end of the saloon. They watched
Major Daly settle himself into a comfortable armchair, his
book on his lap. He read only a page or two before his head
started nodding. The book slipped from his lap and he
began to snore.
The Doctor gave Jo a nod and they slipped into the
saloon. They crept up to Daly who slept on happily. Then
they heard approaching voices. Andrews and Clare were
walking along the deck, just outside the window.
‘I love musical comedies,’ Clare was saying. ‘I saw "Lady
Be Good" four times. And wasn’t that young American
fellow marvellous? Fred something-or-other...’
Her voice died away. Jo and the Doctor stood up. Now
the only sound breaking the silence was that of Daly’s
contented snores.
The Doctor looked round the little saloon, shaking his
head unbelievingly. ‘In spite of everything, Jo, I still say
this isn’t Earth.’
‘All right, Doctor, I’ll convince you.’ Jo picked up
Daly’s book and turned to the title page. ‘Look—date of
publication, nineteen twenty-six.’
The Doctor took the book, looked at it, and shook his
head. ‘I know, Jo. Every little detail, but...’
Jo was hopping up and down with frustration. ‘You’re
so stubborn, Doctor. You ought to have an L-plate on that
Police Box!’
The Doctor said quietly. ‘Come on, Jo, we’re going back
to the TARDIS. I don’t know what’s happening here, but I
don’t like it...’ He moved towards the door, but stopped
when Jo didn’t follow. ‘What’s the matter? Do you want to
stay here?’
‘I just want you to admit the truth, Doctor. Instead of
swanning round in some distant galaxy, we’ve slipped back
fifty years in time. We’re on a little cargo boat in the
Indian Ocean and...’
Jo’s tirade was cut short by a shattering roar from
outside the cabin. They heard a scream from Clare, a
sudden shout from Andrews. Daly started to mutter and
stir, and the Doctor pulled Jo quickly into the corridor,
just as Clare and Lieutenant Andrews came running back.
Daly stumbled to his feet. ‘What’s going on?’
Andrews led Clare across to her father. ‘Some kind of
sea monster, sir. It’s hideous.’
There was another roar, and a jolting crash shook the
ship as something huge slammed against it.
The Doctor led Jo to a porthole and they looked out. An
enormous sea-creature was swimming around the boat, its
savage head waving about on the end of a fantastically long
neck.
The monster roared once again, then plunged back into
the sea. They saw it swimming away for a while, then it
disappeared beneath the waves.
‘What was that thing?’ Jo gasped.
‘A plesiosaurus,’ said the Doctor. ‘And if this is nineteen
twenty-six—the plesiosaurus has been extinct for millions
of years! ‘
In the saloon, Daly was staring fascinatedly out of the
porthole. ‘I say, it’s gone back into the sea.’
‘I’ll get a rifle,’ said Andrews. ‘Just in case it decides to
come back again. Look after Clare, will you, sir?’
‘Of course, my boy. Come along, m’dear.’ The Major led
the shivering Clare to a comfortable chair and settled her
down. He looked almost yearningly out of the porthole. ‘By
Jove, what a monstrous beast!’
Clare buried her face in her hands. ‘It was awful,
horrible,’ she sobbed.
‘There, there, child,’ said her father soothingly. ‘We’ll
take a shot at it, if it does come back. What a head, eh?
Love to have that on the Club wall!’ He went on staring
out of the porthole.
Jo and the Doctor were now on the far side of the saloon
door—they had to pass it to get back to their cargo-hatch.
They tiptoed past it very quietly. Un-fortunately, Clare
Daly happened to look up exactly as they were framed in
the open doorway. She stared at them in amazement, and
let out a little cry. Daly turned and came over to the door.
‘Hullo!’ he said wonderingly.
‘Hullo!’ said the Doctor cheerily. ‘Topping day, what?’
‘I say, just a minute old chap,’ said Daly. ‘Are you two
passengers?’
‘Only temporarily.’ The Doctor made an attempt to get
away, but by now Daly had come into the corridor and was
blocking their exit. He stared at them. ‘Temporarily?’
Jo decided to take a hand. ‘Uncle means just until we
reach Bombay,’ she said brightly.
Clare had come over to join her father. ‘I thought we
were the only passengers,’ she said. ‘Where did you come
aboard?’
‘Oh—er Port Said,’ said Jo hurriedly, hoping her
geography was accurate.
Clare looked puzzled. ‘I still don’t understand why we
haven’t met before.’
Jo felt she was getting in deeper and deeper. And the
Doctor wasn’t any help. He just smiled blandly and let her
flounder on.
‘Well, my uncle here hasn’t been well,’ she said, getting
a bit of her own back. ‘We’ve mostly stayed below.’
Daly looked at the Doctor sympathetically. ‘Poor
traveller, eh? Not used to it, I suppose?’
The Doctor rose to this immediately. ‘On the contrary
sir, I happen to be a very experienced—’
Andrews came in, a rifle in his hand. He stopped at the
sight of the little group, then crossed the saloon to them.
‘Who are these people?’
Daly stared at him. ‘Don’t you know, Andrews? They
said they got on at Port Said.’
Andrews shook his head. ‘Stowaways, eh? Where have
you been hiding yourselves?’
Jo drew a deep breath, and then gave up. She looked at
the Doctor. ‘You tell them—uncle.’
To Vorg and Shirna’s surprise, the two Minoran officials
didn’t approach them at once. They stopped a little way off
and stood quietly talking, glancing occasionally at the two
Lurmans. They seemed to be working out something.
Meanwhile, a crowd of Functionaries was gathering around
the alcove, staring curiously at the two aliens and their
strange machine.
Vorg, busily checking over the machine, didn’t notice
them at first, Shirna jabbed him in the ribs again. ‘Hey,
Vorg!’
He looked up and she indicated the crowd of curious
faces. Vorg smiled. Crowds were his business. ‘Well, well,
well, we seem to be getting an audience. I’d better start the
pitch.’
‘What here?’
‘Why not? A real showman can work anywhere.’ Vorg
raised his voice to a practiced carrying chant. ‘Roll up, roll
up, me lucky lads.’
The Functionaries crowded closer.
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Shirna. Hurriedly she brushed
down her costume, and struck a dramatic pose gesturing
towards the Scope.
Vorg went into his patter. ‘Roll up, roll up, and see the
real live monster show. A whole Carnival of Monsters, live
and clawing in this amazing device. See them living wild
in their natural habitat! A miracle of inter-galactic
technology! Roll up, roll up...’
The two Minoran officials watched these goings on from
a safe distance. ‘So—those two strange beings are
Lurmans,’ said Kalik distastefully.
Orum consulted a document. ‘It appears that the male is
called Vorg, and the female Shirna.’
‘Ridiculous, these alien names. One is relieved that their
physical form is familiar. One feared they might have four
heads. Though it is still unpleasant to have to fraternise
with any alien race.’ Despite the fact that he was the
President’s brother, Kalik was one of the old school.
‘Nevertheless, Commissioner Kalik, one has one’s duty
to perform,’ Orum said solemnly.
‘One will wait for Commissioner Pletrac. He is the
Chairman of our little tribunal. Let him perform his duty.
Meanwhile, one will observe these aliens a little longer.’
Vorg wasn’t enjoying his usual success with his
showman’s patter. In fact it seemed rather to alarm the
Functionaries. Slowly they began drifting away from the
alcove. Shirna, who had been watching his efforts with
cynical resignation, glanced towards the Scope. A light was
flickering on the control panel. She attracted Vorg’s
attention with her usual jab in the ribs.
Vorg abandoned his patter and went over to the Scope.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said uneasily. He thumped the side of the
Scope with his fist. The light still flickered. ‘I’m sure it’s
nothing.’
‘That light indicates a systems defect, doesn’t it?’
‘No, no. Just a loose connection. Nothing of
consequence.’
‘A systems defect,’ said Shirna firmly.
Vorg gave the Scope an angry kick. ‘Of all the times to
go wrong!’ He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves.
‘I’ll have to take off the inspection plate. Get the tools will
you, Shirna?’
Shirna began passing him tools from a well-worn bag.
While Vorg wrestled with the inspection panel she looked
at the Minoran officials. ‘Not very friendly, are they?’
Vorg grunted. ‘They’re Officials. Officials are never
friendly.’
A third Minoran Official had arrived to join the other two.
He to was grey-robed and grey-faced, but his white hair
and stooped shoulders gave him an air of age and rank.
Pletrac was still very spry, despite his years. He bustled up
to Kalik and Orum. ‘One hears that yet another
Functionary has gone berserk,’ he said in shocked tones.
‘One witnessed the event,’ said Kalik coldly. ‘In fact,
one dealt with it.’
Orum shook his head sadly, ‘One cannot understand
why they do it.’
‘But then, one is not a Functionary,’ said Kalik in a
bored tone.
Plectrac looked sharply at him. ‘It is a growing problem.
As members of the Official caste, we must all share
President Zarb’s concern.’
‘Functionaries have no sense of responsibility,’ said
Orum sadly. ‘Give them a hygiene chamber and they only
store their issue of fossil fuel in it.’
In his alcove, Vorg had finally managed to get the
inspection panel off the Scope. ‘Pass the micro-scanner,’ he
ordered. Shirna fished a telescope-like device from the bag
and handed it to him.
Vorg peered through it, jiggled it about, then gave a
sudden grunt of satisfaction.
Shirna leaned over his shoulder. ‘Have you located the
fault?’
‘There’s a bit of foreign matter inside circuit three.’
‘Can you get it out?’
‘I think so. It’s really only a matter of unscrewing the
circuit baseplate. Have a look for the micro-driver, will
you?’
As Shirna searched in the untidy jumble of the tool-bag,
Vorg peered again through the micro-scanner. ‘It’s a funny
thing,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘This foreign body—it seems
to be a kind of blue box! ‘
3
The Giant Hand
The Doctor’s attempts at explaining their presence on
board had met with little success. Reluctant as always to
disclose the existence of the TARDIS, he had spun a long
and complicated story about having to leave Port Said
because of some urgent secret mission which he wasn’t free
to disclose. The Doctor thought it quite a good story—but
unfortunately Lieutenant Andrews didn’t believe a word of
it. ‘I suppose you realise the Captain could have you put in
irons,’ he said grimly.
‘My dear fellow, do you really think that’s necessary?’
‘Not if you start telling me the truth.’
Clare Daly was beginning to feel sorry for the two
newcomers. ‘Oh do stop bullying them, John,’ she said.
‘That’s right, stop bullying us,’ said Jo, grateful for the
unexpected ally.
Major Daly too seemed to think things were going a bit
far. ‘I say, why don’t we all have a drink and talk this over
like civilised people?’
‘An excellent idea,’ said the Doctor promptly. ‘I’ll have a
small—’
‘Major Daly! ‘ cut in Andrews firmly. ‘These people are
certainly stowaways and quite possibly criminals.’
‘Oh dash it all,’ protested Daly. ‘The fellow is a Sahib,
you know.’
‘Nevertheless, this is not a social occasion.’
‘Still don’t see why we shouldn’t offer basic
hospitality...’
Andrews smiled grimly. ‘I’d like to offer them the
hospitality of your cabin, sir. There’s a good strong lock on
the door. They can wait there till the Captain’s free to see
them.’
‘Oh very well,’ said Daly. ‘Put ’em in my cabin by all
means.’
Andrews gestured sharply with his rifle. ‘Right, you
two. This way.’
As he marched them off down the corridor, the Doctor
said, ‘You see? We should have left when I wanted to.’
‘Well, who got us here in the first place?’ hissed Jo.
Andrews marched them along to a cabin door and
opened it. Just outside the door was an octagonal metal
plate set into the floor. The Doctor looked at Andrews.
‘Are there many of these on the ship?’
‘Many of what?’
‘These things,’ said the Doctor, pointing. ‘Are there
others, or is this the only one?’
Andrews stared at him. ‘There’s nothing there.’
Jo looked down at the plate and then up at Andrews.
‘You mean you can’t see it?’
Andrews raised the rifle. ‘Get in that cabin!’ he ordered
sharply. They went in.
Major Daly’s cabin was small but comfortable with the
usual brass and mahogany ship’s furnishings. Bunk, wash-
stand, writing desk, armchair, clothes locker. Everything
seemed utterly normal.
Andrews stood in the doorway. ‘I don’t know what you
two are up to. But I’ve a crew of lascars who try to make a
fool of me every trip. They haven’t succeeded yet, and
neither will you!’
Jo gave a cheeky grin. ‘Don’t underestimate us!’
The Doctor was studying a framed plan of the ship on
the cabin wall. He read the lettering underneath. ‘I say, old
chap, is this ship the S.S. Bernice?’
‘Are you trying to pretend you didn’t even know that?’
‘I didn’t. Now I do, and it makes everything much
clearer. Thank you.’
Andrews felt he was being made fun of, and he didn’t
care for it. ‘All right I I’m going to lock you in here till the
Captain is ready to see you. He’s a very busy man, so that
might not be for a long time.’
Andrews left, slamming the door hard behind him.
They heard the key turn in the lock and his footsteps going
away. Jo turned to the Doctor. ‘All right. You said
everything was much clearer. Explain! ‘
‘Well, relatively speaking. An octagonal plate in the
floor, and a prehistoric monster in the sea. Yes, it’s really
most interesting.’
The Doctor stretched out comfortably on the bunk. Jo
sank into the chair. ‘Do you really think Andrews couldn’t
see that metal plate?’
‘I’m sure he couldn’t, Jo. It was blocked from his
consciousness. You see, it isn’t really part of the fabric of
the ship.’
‘Not part of the ship? A great lump of...’
The Doctor smiled infuriatingly. ‘Exactly. A lump of
what? Not steel, iron, copper, aluminium. That metal isn’t
known on Earth.’
Jo waved a hand round the little cabin. ‘We must be on
Earth. This cabin, the ship, the chickens, the people...
You’re not going to tell me Major Daly’s an alien from
another planet?’
The Doctor pointed to a calendar beside the bunk.
‘Look at this. Daly’s been keeping track of the date.’ Jo saw
that the calendar was for the year ninteen twenty-six. It
was open at the month of June, and someone had crossed
off the days as far as June the fourth. The Doctor nodded
to the wall plan. ‘And what about the name of the ship?
Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’
‘No! should it?’
‘For a time the S.S. Bernice was the centre of a mystery
as famous as that of the Marie Celeste.’
Jo was alarmed. ‘What happened?’
‘Nobody ever knew,’ said the Doctor mysteriously. ‘A
freak wave was the favourite explanation—but the Indian
Ocean was as calm as a mill pond that night.’
‘You mean the ship sank?’
‘She vanished, Jo. Two days from Bombay, on the night
of June the fourth, the Bernice disappeared from the face of
the Earth—or rather the sea.’
Jo looked at the calendar. ‘June the fourth? But that’s
today! ‘
‘Intriguing, isn’t it?’ said the Doctor cheerfully.
Jo was looking at the cabin clock. ‘Shall I tell you
something else intriguing? When we came in here that
clock said twenty-five to eight. Now look at it!’
The Doctor looked. The clock’s hands were at twenty to
six. ‘So you’ve noticed that? Well I’ve noticed something
else. It’s still broad daylight outside.’
‘So?’
‘If it really is after dinner, and if we really are in the
Indian Ocean—it should be pitch dark by now.’ The
Doctor swung his long legs from the bunk and made for
the door, rattling the handle experimentally.
‘Sonic screwdriver?’ suggested Jo.
The Doctor looked a little sheepish. ‘I’m afraid that only
works on electronic locks, Jo. This is a simpler lock and we
need a simpler tool.’
Jo produced a bunch of skeleton keys. ‘Like this?’
The Doctor stared at her. ‘Why on earth are you
carrying those things around with you?’
‘If I’ve learned one thing in travelling about with you,
Doctor, it’s that sooner or later we’re bound to get locked
up! Allow me!’ Watched by the astonished Doctor, Jo
started to pick the lock.
It didn’t take her long to get it open, and they went out
into the corridor. Jo thought they’d make straight for the
TARDIS, but the Doctor knelt by the metal plate in the
floor and started to examine it. ‘Works by anti-magnetic
cohesion,’ he muttered.
‘Can you open it?’
‘Not without a magnetic core-extractor.’
‘That’s that, then,’ said Jo, relieved. ‘Let’s get back to
the TARDIS.’ Their positions had become reversed. Jo was
anxious to get away, while the Doctor wanted to stay and
investigate further.
‘As a matter of fact,’ said the Doctor slowly. ‘I do
happen to have a magnetic core-extractor somewhere in the
TARDIS.’
Jo sighed. ‘Of course. I might have known you wouldn’t
travel without one!’
The problem about getting back to the TARDIS was
that it involved going past the passenger saloon. They
crept towards it, and as they approached the open door,
they heard voices. ‘Splendid dinner, this,’ someone was
saying in fruity English tones. ‘Absolutely topping. You
say the cook’s a Madrassi, Andrews?’
They heard Andrews’ polite reply. ‘I believe so, sir.’
‘Find the Madrassi boys a bit idle, meself. Won’t have
one on the plantation. Still, I must say your fellow knows
how to curry a chicken. Sundowner, old chap?’
Then came Clare’s voice. ‘Lieutenant Andrews and I
thought we’d take a turn round the deck. Care to join us,
Daddy? It’s a glorious evening.’
‘No, you and young Andrews don’t need me. You run
along. I’m going to do a spot of reading. Determined to
finish this book before we reach Bombay.’
Astonished, Jo heard the whole sequence of events
replay itself exactly as before. They heard the clink of the
decanter as Daly settled himself in the arm-chair. Clare
and Andrews went out on to the deck, talking just as
before.
Jo pulled the Doctor’s sleeve. ‘Come on, Doctor, let’s get
out of here.’
The Doctor didn’t move. ‘Hang on a moment, Jo. I’ve
got a theory about what’s happening here... and we should
get confirmation any minute.’
‘Nothing’s happening here,’ said Jo. ‘That’s what’s so
creepy. They’re just going round and round like a stuck
gramophone record! ‘
‘That’s right. They’ve been programmed to repeat a
simple behaviour pattern.’
‘That monster, the plesiosaurus. Has that been
programmed too?’
‘I imagine so.’
‘But there weren’t any plesiosauruses in nineteen
twenty-six!’
‘Exactly. I’m afraid that, historically speaking, this
collection is a bit of a jumble.’
Jo shook her head. ‘Are you trying to tell me that this
ship, and everyone on it, are all part of some kind of
collection?’ She looked around. ‘Everything seems so
ordinary.’
‘Jo, have you ever seen a child at the seaside, filling a
bucket with sea creatures? After a while they behave quite
normally. Only the boy looking down at them knows their
environment has changed.’
‘Human beings are rather more intelligent than whelks!’
‘And these specimens were collected by more
sophisticated methods than a net and pail. But the
principle’s the same.’
‘I’m sorry, Doctor, I just don’t believe it.’
There came a shattering roar from outside the ship.
They heard a scream from Clare, a sudden shout from
Andrews. Daly stumbled to his feet. ‘What’s going on?’
The Doctor pulled Jo back around a corner as Andrews
and Clare rushed past them. They heard his voice from the
saloon. ‘Some kind of sea monster, sir. It’s hideous.’ There
was another roar and a jolting crash as something
enormous slammed against the ship. The Doctor led Jo to
the porthole, and they saw the many-fanged head on the
incredibly long neck as the plesiosaurus swam round the
boat.
They ducked quickly back into hiding as Andrews’s
voice came from the saloon.
‘I’ll get a rifle, just in case it decides to come back again.
Look after Clare, will you. sir?’
Andrews rushed out of the saloon and disappeared on
deck.
‘Now,’ said the Doctor. ‘Quick, before she looks up!’
With Clare’s head still buried in her hands, and Daly
staring out of the window, they ran past the open door of
the saloon. As they passed it, Daly’s voice floated out.
‘What a head, eh? Love to have that on the Club wall...’
Keeping low, the Doctor and Jo scurried along the deck.
In the bows, Andrews, rifle in hand, a few terrified lascars
beside him, was staring after the plesiosaurus as it sank
roaring back into the sea. The Doctor lifted the cargo-
hatch and they both descended into a hot darkness that
smelled of chickens...
The familiar shape of the TARDIS stood in the corner
and they made their way through the gloom towards it. Jo
hoped they’d be able to go inside and take off—but she
should have known better.
‘Hang on here a moment,’ said the Doctor reaching for
his key. ‘I’ll pop inside and get the magnetic core-
extractor.’
‘Can’t we just go home Doctor?’
The Doctor’s voice came through the open door of the
TARDIS. ‘Where’s your scientific curiosity, Jo? Don’t you
want to know what’s going on?’
‘Not much, no.’
The Doctor came out of the TARDIS, an oddly-shaped
gadget in his hand, and locked the door behind him. ‘Just a
quick look at what’s behind that metal plate, and we’ll be
off I promise...’
There came a sudden terrified scream from Jo and the
Doctor swung round. Jo pointed upwards, too frightened to
speak.
A section of the cargo-hold high above them had just
opened out, as if on some kind of hinge. Through the gap
an enormous hand had appeared... the hand of a giant. It
groped around vaguely for a moment, then started
descending towards them...
4
Trapped!
Jo and the Doctor cowered away, crouched behind a pile of
crates as the giant hand seemed to reach down for them. It
came lower... lower... then, with a slight change of
direction its index finger and thumb closed on the
TARDIS. It lifted the police box as a man might pick up a
box of matches from a drawer. Holding the TARDIS, the
giant hand disappeared through the gap.
The Doctor yelled, ‘Hey, that’s mine. Bring it back!’
His only answer was an echoing clang as the section of
hold swung back and darkness returned.
Jo’s face popped up from behind a crate. ‘Doctor, that
hand... has it gone?’
‘It has. And it’s taken the TARDIS with it.’
Jo stared upwards. ‘But there’s no way through. Are you
sure?’
‘Part of the hold swung open.’
Jo looked at the steel wall. ‘But that must weigh tons
and tons.’
‘You saw the size of that hand.’
‘But we’ve been up there,’ persisted Jo. ‘There’s only the
deck.’
‘There must be an optical illusion as well as a temporal
one. I told you this was no ordinary ship.’
‘And now we’re trapped on it—with the TARDIS
gone...’
‘Don’t worry,’ said the Doctor reassuringly, ‘It’s only a
matter of finding where it’s gone and getting it back!’
Jo was almost speechless. ‘Only? Well, where do we
start?’
‘We start by finding a way off this ship.’ The Doctor
started towards the ladder. Wondering just how they were
going to get off a ship in the middle of the ocean, Jo
followed him.
Vorg withdrew his hand from the Scope with a satisfied
grunt. ‘Got it! ‘
Shirna leaned over his shoulder. ‘Let’s have a look.’
Vorg kept his hand inside the Scope’s inspection hatch.
‘Got to keep it within the miniaturisation field. Here it is.’
Shirna looked at the little blue box. ‘That was causing
all the trouble?’
‘Apparently. Must be electrically charged in some way.’
‘How did it get in there?’
‘Search me. Maybe it was in there all along and just got
displaced. Anyway, I’ll put it here on the spare-parts shelf.’
Vorg straightened up and started to replace the hatch.
‘Just in time,’ whispered Shirna. ‘Our grey friends are
coming over at last.’
Their long deliberations finished, the three Minoran
Officials were striding towards them. Pletrac in the lead, as
befitted his rank, Kalik and Orum flanking him. The
Minorans paused at a safe distance, unwilling to risk alien
contamination.
‘One must now collect their data-strips,’ said Pletrac.
‘Orum?’
Orum stepped back, shuddering. ‘Physical contact?’ he
asked in a horrified tone.
‘You are Chairman,’ said Kalik in his waspish tone.
‘One suggests you approach them, Pletrac.’
The old man settled his robes on his shoulder. ‘One has
no fears,’ he said rather nervously. ‘Your Lurman is a
simple fellow. Good natured and trusting, he responds well
to firm leadership, and is capable of great loyalty.’
‘Perhaps we should import them to replace our
Functionaries,’ sneered Kalik.
Pletrac strode up to Vorg and Shirna. ‘We friends,’ he
said, in a rather quavering voice.
Vorg produced his lowest bow. ‘Your worship!’ Shirna
curtsied prettily. There was an embarrassed pause.
‘Er—you give magic talk boxes,’ said Pletrac.
Vorg and Shirna stared at each other. Vorg whispered, ‘I
think he wants our data-strips.’
Shirna fished out two plastic micro-strips and held them
out to Pletrac. ‘It’s all right,’ she said encouragingly. ‘We
don’t bite!’
The old man snatched the strips and scuttled back to his
fellows. There were more deliberations.
Shirna shook her head. ‘They’re a weird lot. I don’t
know why you were so keen to come here, Vorg.’
Vorg leaned forward confidentially. ‘This planet cut
itself off from the rest of the galaxy after the great Space
Plague. They’ve only just opened their frontiers again.
Traders are coming in—but we’re the first entertainers! No
one else saw the opportunity!’
‘You mean none of them will have seen anything like
the Scope before?’
‘Exactly. Think of it, Shirna. That great audience out
there, a whole world of them. We’ll go back to Lurma with
a million credit-bars.’
Pletrac and his tribunal were studying the data-strips on
a portable computer terminal. Pletrac looked up. ‘These
seem to be in order.’
‘The record is incomplete,’ objected Kalik. ‘There is no
reference to the machine.’
‘Machines are harmless,’ said Pletrac querulously. ‘We
have examined the data-strips and found them in order.
What more should we do?’
‘Examine the machine,’ snapped Kalik. He shot a glance
at Orum.
‘One agrees,’ said Orum hurriedly. ‘It would be
advisable.’
Pletrac moved over to Vorg and Shirna. Kalik and
Orum followed him. Pletrac handed back the data-strips.
‘These are in order. But the tribunal requires to know the
purpose of your machine.’
Vorg was shocked. His moustache and eyebrows seemed
to bristle with outrage. ‘Machine, your worships? The
Scope is no mere machine!’
Kalik was unimpressed. ‘Then what is it?’
Vorg deared his throat impressively. ‘The Scope is a
unique artistic achievement. The supreme creative
invention of our age! It is my proud privilege to bring its
many wonders to your noble planet. You will be amazed,
you will be astounded—’
Kalik’s dry voice cut across the flow of Vorg’s oratory.
‘Is it a machine within the normal meaning of the word?’
Vorg heaved a dramatic sigh. ‘Machine is such a paltry
description, your worship.’
‘Cease prevaricating,’ snapped Kalik. ‘What is the
machine’s function. What does it do?’
Vorg sighed. Some people had no poetry in their souls.
‘Well, your worships,’ he began. ‘It’s like this...’
Since the octagonal metal plate was just outside Major
Daly’s cabin, the Doctor and Jo followed the same route as
before. They were working their way along the deck
towards the passenger saloon, slipping from cover to cover,
when they heard voices coming towards them. They had
just time to duck behind a lifeboat as Lieutenant Andrews
and Clare came along the deck, still discussing musical
comedies. ‘I absolutely adored Chu Chin Chow,’ Clare was
saying. ‘Daddy took me when I was a little girl.’
Andrews laughed. ‘I tell you the whole thing’s absolute
rubbish. I’ve sailed into Shanghai fifty times, my girl, and I
know what Johnny Chinaman’s really like!’
They passed on their way chatting happily. Jo
whispered, ‘I suppose we’re due for the monster bit again
any time now?’
‘Very probably,’ said the Doctor.
Sure enough there came the shattering roar, and a
savage head on a long waving neck appeared out of the sea.
‘Let’s not see it round again,’ said Jo. ‘When you’ve seen
one plesiosaurus, you’ve seen ‘em all.’
There were the same roars from the monster, the same
shouts of alarm from Andrews and Clare. Andrews hurried
Clare back to her father, and ran off to the arms locker.
‘Come on,’ said the Doctor, ‘now’s our chance.’ They
ran through the door, along the passage and tip-toed
towards the open door to the passenger saloon. As they
reached it Clare was in her chair, face in hands, and Daly
was gazing out of the porthole.
‘What a head, eh?’ he was saying. ‘Love to have that on
the Club wall! ‘ But this time he turned a fraction earlier—
and caught sight of Jo and the Doctor creeping past.
Obviously it was possible for minor variations to occur
within the programmed pattern of events. Major Daly
gaped at them. ‘Hullo,’ he said.
‘Topping day, what?’ said the Doctor.
‘Absolutely splendid,’ replied Daly politely.
The Doctor struggled to remember his early twentieth-
century slang. ‘Well, twenty-three skidoo, must get on, eh?
Pip, pip!’
Daly came to the saloon door. ‘I say, are you
passengers?’
‘Don’t you remember,’ said Jo. ‘You asked us that
before?’
Daly looked at her in disbelief. ‘How could I? I’ve never
bally well seen you before in my life.’
The three Minoran Officials listened to Vorg’s
explanations in sceptical silence. Pletrac attempted a
summing-up. ‘If I understand you so far, it appears that
you travel from planet to planet with this—machine
performing some kind of ritual? For what purpose?’
Shirna decided to take a hand. ‘We’re entertainers.’ she
explained patiently.
‘Entertainers?’ Pletrac was none the wiser. ‘Explain the
term.’
‘We put on a show,’ said Shirna. ‘You understand?’ She
did a little tap-dance by way of demonstration.
The three Minorans recoiled in alarm. ‘No,’ said Pletrac.
‘Our purpose is to amuse,’ confirmed Vorg. ‘Nothing
serious, nothing political..
Kalik frowned. ‘Amusement is prohibited. It is
purposeless.’
Pletrac led his two colleagues to one side. ‘President
Zarb has lifted that restriction. His thinking is that lack of
amusement is causing these outbreaks of rebellion among
the Functionaries.’
‘More anti-productive legislation,’ hissed Kalik. Orum
shook his head mournfully. ‘One wonders where it will
end.’
‘One can see where it will end, Orum. The
Functionaries will take over.’ Kalik spoke dryly.
Pletrac looked sharply at him. ‘It is not the
Functionaries who dream of power, Kalik. Since President
Zarb is your brother, one hoped for more loyalty.’
‘One simply speaks one’s thoughts,’ said Kalik
smoothly.
The old man glared at him. ‘Your thoughts are as plain
as your ambitions.’
‘How dare you!’
Orum tried to smooth over the quarrel. ‘Pletrac, Kalik,
please. We are here simply to decide whether to grant these
entertainers an entrance visa.’
Kalik spoke first. ‘In view of their subversive purpose
and their dubious machine, one moves that the application
be rejected.’
‘Motion opposed,’ said Pletrac.
Kalik looked at Orum, who said hurriedly. ‘Motion
supported.’
Pletrac sighed. ‘Very well.’ He led the little group back
to Vorg and Shirna. ‘I regret to tell you that your
application for a visa has been rejected by this Tribunal.
You will be allotted space on the next out-bound cargo-
thruster.’
Vorg was shattered at the sudden dissolution of his
dreams of wealth. ‘But, your worship,’ he stammered.
‘Please, I beg of you. We spent our last credit-bar on the
journey here.’
Kalik gave him an indifferent look. ‘That was unwise,’
he said turning away.
Vorg made a final effort. ‘If your worships would permit
me to demonstrate the wonders of the Scope, I’m sure you
would be ready to reconsider. The Scope is not only
amusing but educational too!’
Pletrac was old-fashioned and conservative, but he was
also fair minded. He hadn’t cared for the way in which
Kalik had forced through the Tribunal’s decision. ‘The
suggestion is reasonable,’ he said firmly. ‘Demonstrate!’
Vorg bustled around overjoyed. ‘If your worships would
take up their positions at the viewing apertures. This way,
your worships.’
He arranged the three Minoran Officials at viewing
apertures around the Scope, and moved to the controls.
‘Now, if you will gaze deeply into the glo-sphere...’
The viewing apparatus of the Scope produced a mild
hypnotic effect, making the viewer feel part of the scene he
was witnessing. Immediately the three Minorans seemed to
have left the familiar bustle of the Spaceport, and to be
standing on some bleak, alien planet. Towards them
lumbered a huge ape-like creature dressed in rough leather
clothing. Pletrac jumped back in alarm—and was relieved
to find himself still in the Spaceport. ‘What was that
thing?’
‘A primitive life-form called the Ogron,’ said Vorg. ‘I
believe they are used as servants by some race called
Daleks. If your worship will return to the viewing-place?’
Vorg twiddled controls.
The Minorans were transported to a steaming tropical
swamp.
‘With a bit of luck,’ said Vorg. ‘I shall be able to show
you the pride of my collection—the Drashigs.’ Far away in
the swamp there was a roar and a splash. Then nothing
more.
‘Amazing,’ said Kalik ironically.
Vorg was apologetic. ‘The Drashigs have no intelligence
centres, unfortunately, so it’s impossible to control them.
I’ll switch over to the Terrans. Less spectacular, but
extremely controllable! One of their planet’s native sea-
monsters has been added to their habitat for increased
variety! You should see them react when it appears.’
This time the Minorans found themselves in a kind of
living-chamber, in which a number of Terrans were
talking agitatedly.
‘The species was discovered in a distant galaxy,’ said
Vorg in his best lecturer’s voice. ‘You will note the strong
resemblance these little chaps bear to our own life-form.’
Kalik shuddered. ‘The resemblance is unpleasant. Are
they going to do anything?’
Vorg felt his show was failing to impress, and decided to
give it a boost. ‘Observe closely, your worships. By a simple
adjustment of the aggrometer—so —these peaceful Terrans
can be made to behave in an amusingly aggressive manner.’
In the passenger saloon of the S.S. Bernice, the
programmed sequence of events was playing itself out. One
again the Doctor and Jo had become part of it. Just as
before they had tried to elude Daly and Clare, just as before
Andrews had turned up, this time with a couple of armed
seamen, and disbelieved their explanations. It looked as if
they were to be locked up in Daly’s cabin all over again.
A low humming note rang through the ship. No one
except Jo and the Doctor seemed to notice it. But suddenly
the atmosphere became hostile and threatening.
His eyes blazing with anger Andrews shouted, ‘So you
persist in sticking to this ridiculous story, do you?’
The Doctor said sharply, ‘And what if I do, sir?’
Andrews tossed his rifle to a sailor, stripped off his coat
and started to roll up his sleeves. ‘Then I propose to thrash
you within an inch of your life!’
The three Minorans stared fascinatedly into the Scope.
‘What ritual are they performing now?’ asked Orum.
Vorg looked into his viewing aperture. ‘Two of the
males are about to engage in physical combat, your
worship.’
Jo Grant felt she was in some kind of nightmare.
Lieutenant Andrews was rolling up his sleeves over
brawny arms. The Doctor too had taken off his coat, and
was rolling up the sleeves of his ruffled shirt.
Jo looked at Andrews, so much younger and stronger
than his opponent. ‘Doctor, you can’t,’ she whispered.
The Doctor seemed caught up in the prevailing
madness: ‘I most certainly can,’ he said briskly. ‘It will give
me the greatest of pleasure to teach this insolent young
puppy a much needed lesson.’ Tone and manner were quite
unlike his normal self.
Jo turned to Major Daly and Clare. Surely they would
make some protest. ‘Please,’ she pleaded, ‘you’ve got to stop
them. It isn’t fair.’
Neither father nor daughter seemed to hear her. They
were leaning forward excitedly, eyes shining with
bloodthirsty eagerness, waiting for the fight to begin.
Preparations completed, fists clenched and raised, the
two opponents moved towards each other...
5
Inside the Machine
Jo didn’t know much about boxing, but she couldn’t help
noticing the differences in styles. Andrews moved forwards
in a crouch, shoulders hunched, chin tucked in, fists
weaving protectively in front of him. He spoke through
gritted teeth. ‘I think I ought to warn you, I used to box for
my school.’
The Doctor’s stance was straight-backed and up-right,
right hand protecting his chin, left arm stretched out full-
length. He moved with brisk skipping steps. ‘And I should
warn you, I used to spar with John L. Sullivan!’
The fight was short and savage. The two men came
together in a flurry of blows. Jo saw the Doctor dodge and
block Andrews’s punches with careless ease. The Doctor’s
long left arm shot out and his fist caught Andrews on the
cheekbone, then again on the nose. Stung by the two
painful blows Andrews swung a wild right uppercut at the
Doctor’s chin. The Doctor dodged it with ease and sunk a
savage right hook into the younger man’s solar plexus.
Air whooshed from Andrews’s body, his face went grey
and he collapsed like a leaking balloon, slumping slowly to
the ground.
Jo saw the Doctor’s face change... He leaned over his
fallen opponent, appalled at what he had done, and was
about to help him to his feet. Jo looked round.
Clare, Major Daly, the two sailors, all were staring open-
mouthed at the gasping Andrews. She grabbed the
Doctor’s coat from a chair. ‘Hurry, Doctor, this way!’ The
Doctor stared wildly at her. Jo grabbed him by the arm and
dragged him out of the saloon.
They started to run towards Daly’s cabin but another
armed seaman appeared at the end of the passage. They
turned and ran the opposite way, out on to the deck of the
ship.
In the saloon Andrews was struggling to his feet. He
grabbed his rifle and turned to the seamen. ‘Get after them.
Cover the aft companionway! Quick, man! Shoot on sight!’
They all ran from the saloon.
Major Daly and Clare followed after them. ‘Don’t want
to miss the fun, do we?’ puffed Daly, as he hurried along.
Hidden behind a lifeboat Jo watched the Doctor get
back into his coat. ‘Extraordinary,’ he was muttering.
‘Remote control aggression-stimulation. Felt it myself, till
I realised what was happening. I shouldn’t have hit that
poor young fellow so hard.’
There was a shout of ‘There they are!’ The crack of a
rifle and a bullet whined close to them.
‘Never mind him, Doctor,’ said Jo. ‘You worry about
us!’
They sprinted across the decks, ducking and weaving to
dodge the bullets. In the chase that followed, it seemed to
Jo that they must have covered every inch of the ship.
They were hunted across decks, up and down
companionways, into another cargo-hold and out again.
Always behind them was the sound of running feet, the
voice of Andrews harrying on his lascar seamen, and the
crack of rifle-fire whenever they were spotted. As they ran
along a stretch of open deck, Jo gasped, ‘How many times
round the deck is a mile?’
‘Too open here,’ called the Doctor. ‘Let’s try that door.’
They ran to the door. The Doctor grabbed the handle,
but the door was locked from inside. There was a rifle-shot
and a bullet ricocheted off metal. Jo looked up. Andrews,
rifle at his shoulder, was crouching on a companionway
above them. The Doctor grabbed Jo’s wrist and dragged
her round the corner. They found another door, and
luckily this one did open. Once through, the Doctor swung
it closed behind them and locked it—just as bullets
smacked against the other side of the steel door.
Back inside the ship they ran quickly along the narrow
metal passages. ‘Look,’ said Jo, ‘there’s the dining saloon.’
‘That’s right! And there’s the entrance to Daly’s cabin,
and there’s that metal plate!’ The Doctor quickly knelt
beside the plate, taking the core-extractor from his pocket.
‘How does it work?’ asked Jo.
The Doctor began moving the little device along the
edges of the plate. ‘Simple. You hold it flat and move it
along the edges of the plate—like this...’
‘On your feet!’ They looked up at the harsh command.
Andrews, Daly and a handful of lascar seamen, all carrying
rifles, were running along the passage. The Doctor glanced
round for a weapon. There was a flare-pistol clipped to a
wall rack and instinctively he reached for it—but too late.
Andrews’s rifle barrel jabbed his ribs.
Slowly the Doctor straightened up. Andrews slid back
the bolt on his rifle. ‘We’ve had just about enough of your
nonsense,’ he said angrily. ‘The punishment for piracy on
the High Seas is death!’ There was a fanatical gleam in his
eye, and he was quite beyond the reach of reason. ‘Firing
party! ‘ he shouted.
The lascar seamen shuffled themselves into a line, rifles
raised to cover the Doctor and Jo. ‘No!’ shouted the
Doctor. ‘You can’t...’
‘Ready, aim...’
A low throbbing note sounded through the ship. For a
moment Andrews, Daly and the others froze like statues.
Then lowering his rifle, Andrews turned to the Major. ‘I
say, sir, I think I heard the dinner gong.’
‘Splendid, hope there’s something decent tonight. I’m
feeling rather peckish.’
‘I think you’ll enjoy the curry, sir. Our cook’s a
Madrassi, you know. First-rate chap...’ Andrews turned to
the sailors. ‘Well, don’t hang about, you chaps, back to
your duties, chop, chop.’
The sailors hurried away, and Andrews and Daly
strolled off down the corridor, chatting amiably.
Abandoned by their former pursuers, Jo and the Doctor
stared at each other unbelievingly.
Vorg looked up from the controls of the Scope. ‘I’ve turned
the Aggrometer right down,’ he explained. ‘Can’t keep it
on for long or the specimens start damaging each other.’
Almost disappointedly, the Minorans looked up from the
Scope. They moved aside again, and began a whispered
conference among themselves.
Shirna sidled up to Vorg. ‘Hey, I was watching that last
bit, when they were all running round. Those two they
were chasing—have you ever seen them before?’
‘Really, Shirna, how do I know. They all look alike to
me,’ muttered Vorg irritably. He was looking at the
Minorans, wondering if there was any chance of them
changing their minds. No doubt about it, they’d been
pretty impressed by the Scope.
‘Vorg, listen! Those two Terrans are new!’
He stared at her. ‘Nonsense. That’s impossible. How
could they get in there? It’s a closed system.’
Shirna shrugged. ‘Search me. But I tell you they’re
strangers.’
Vorg scratched his head. ‘Well, there’s only one
explanation, then. They’re breeding.’
‘They were fully-grown specimens,’ said Shirna
impatiently.
Vorg sighed. Expelled from the planet, now strangers in
the Scope. It just didn’t seem to be his day...
Jo watched the Doctor slide the core-extractor along the
edge of the plate. ‘Why did they all go rushing off like
that?’
‘Because the influence that was acting on them must
have been turned off suddenly. Produced a temporary
memory-blackout. Ah, got it.’ The metal plate slid back
revealing a black opening.
Jo peered down it. ‘Seems to be the mouth of some kind
of shaft, Doctor. Like a giant metal pipe...’
‘Right,’ said the Doctor. ‘Down you go, then.’
Jo slid into the dark opening. The Doctor grabbed the
flare-pistol from the wall rack, stuffed it in his pocket, then
followed her. The panel slid shut over their heads.
Jo found herself sliding down a long, smooth, metal
tube. Luckily the pipe was tilted at an angle so the drop
wasn’t too steep, and she found she could slow her descent
by bracing herself against the sides. Suddenly the pipe
ended, and Jo shot out into space. She fell only a few feet,
landing with a bump on a metal floor. A few seconds later,
the Doctor landed beside her. They picked themselves up
and looked around. Jo gasped in amazement. They were
deep inside some enormous and incredibly complex
machine.
Stretching above and below and on every side were
coils, circuits, wires as thick as cables, moving wheels,
pistons and cogs. Some of the machinery hummed and
throbbed. Valves and circuits gave off an eerie flickering
glow. Jo felt like an ant that had wandered inside the back
of a television set—very small, very vulnerable and very
much out of place.
She looked up at the Doctor. Hands on hips, head
thrown back, he was gazing absorbedly around him. On his
face was an expression of pure rapture. ‘Just look at that
filter circuit, Jo,’ he said delightedly. ‘What a beautiful
piece of work. Now then—this must be the return system,
so that will be the power-feed over there... The Doctor
crawled into a narrow space between two circuits, and his
muffled voice echoed out. ‘Yes, yes, it is! Come and look at
this, Jo. Magnificent!’
Jo tugged hard on one of his projecting legs and he came
reluctantly out. ‘Doctor, where are we?’ she demanded.
‘What is this thing?’
‘What is it? My dear Jo, it’s a magnificent example of an
early pulse mechanism based on the principle of caeusium
decay. Oh, this is absolutely vintage stuff!’ Such was his
enthusiasm that he seemed to have completely forgotten all
their problems.
‘I take it this isn’t the ship’s engine room?’
‘Of course it isn’t, we’re not even on the ship any
longer.’
‘So where’s the TARDIS?’
‘No idea. Probably been taken outside the machine
entirely. Grit in the works, you see. We’ll find it.’ Then he
was off again.
‘Just look at this capillary hydraulic pump. Have you
ever seen anything like it?’
Jo hadn’t and didn’t much want to. ‘Doctor, the only
reason we came inside this clockwork maze was to find the
TARDIS. So if the TARDIS is outside, let’s start finding
our way out.’
The Doctor nodded reluctantly. ‘I suppose you’re right,
Jo. Well, we’d better begin by following this circuit.’
They set off along a narrow metal tunnel, festooned with
many-coloured wires...
After yet another mini-conference, the three Minoran
officials approached Vorg and Shirna once more. Vorg gave
Shirna a confident nudge. ‘I knew it. My little
demonstration won them over. They’re going to change
their minds and let us stay.’
Pletrac was leading the way, as usual. He cleared his
throat and said, ‘One thing still puzzles the Tribunal. How
were you able to influence the actions of the specimens as
you did? Surely all these pictures are recorded?’
Vorg sighed. Hadn’t they understood anything?
Patiently he explained. ‘On the contrary, your worship, the
Scope is good old-fashioned live entertainment. The
picture on the viewing aperture glo-sphere is a projection
of what is actually taking place.’
In horrified tones, Kalik hissed, ‘Do you mean all those
creatures are actually living in there?’
Vorg nodded proudly. ‘That is so, your worship, all
happy and content in their own miniaturised
environments. The incorporation of a simple temporal
loop ensures that they repeat the same basic patterns hour
after hour...’
Kalik wasn’t listening. He had rounded on Pletrac in
savage satisfaction. ‘You see where these new policies lead,
Pletrac? This machine, this Scope, contains actual live
alien creatures. The Lurman has imported them without a
licence.’
Pletrac flushed with rage as he turned to Vorg. ‘Well? Is
this true? Is it?’
Vorg was taken aback by the violence of the old man’s
reaction. Although he knew the Minorans’ history, he
hadn’t realised the full extent of their hatred and fear of
other life-forms. He made his deepest bow. ‘Your worship,
have I done something to offend?’
Kalik was whispering fiercely to Pletrac. ‘Our laws
expressly forbid the mass transportation of unscrutinised
alien life-forms to this planet. Even my well-meaning
brother Zarb has not yet repealed that law.’
‘The creatures will have to be destroyed,’ said Orum.
Vorg caught the word. ‘Destroyed? My specimens?’
Pletrac nodded agitatedly. ‘Destroyed—and
immediately!’
‘You can’t do that,’ pleaded Shirna. ‘Our livelihood
depends on the Scope.’
‘We are just simple strolling players, your worship,’
began Vorg.
Pletrae ignored them. He drew back the sleeves of his
robe to reveal a wrist-communicator. ‘Send an Eradicator
detachment to loading-bay two immediately.’ He turned
back to Vorg and spoke more gently. ‘I am sorry, but the
specimens and the machine must be destroyed at once. The
regulations are quite clear.’
He turned away, as if fearing contamination. The three
officials waited at a discreet distance.
Vorg glared after them. ‘Bloodthirsty barbarians!’ He sat
down tiredly beside the Scope.
Shirna joined him. ‘Dim-witted yokels, you said they
were. Twist them round your little finger. Have them
eating out of your hand. A fine mess we’re in now, aren’t
we?’
Vorg raised his head indignantly. ‘You’re not blaming
me, are you?’
‘Yes I am,’ said Shirna flatly. ‘I should have stayed with
the All-Star Dance Company.’
‘Third-rate bunch of hoofers,’ grunted Vorg scornfully.
‘At least I always had a few credit-bars to my name. And
we never travelled by cargo-thruster! ‘
The wrangle was interrupted by the sound of marching
feet. A squad of uniformed Functionaries pushing an
enormous electronic cannon were forcing their way
through the crowd.
‘Eradicator detachment, this way!’ shouted Pletrac. The
impressive, deadly-looking device was wheeled over, and
its muzzle trained on the Scope.
Always the showman, Vorg jumped to his feet. He stood
between the Eradicator and the Scope, arms spread wide.
‘Stand aside,’ ordered Pletrac.
‘This is murder,’ shouted Vorg. ‘Assassination!
Massacre! I am not without influence, you know. There
will be complaints!’
Pletrac coughed. ‘Commence eradication,’ he said
quietly.
Vorg leaped dear. A uniformed Functionary bent over
the Eradicator controls. There was a hum of power and the
metal parts of the Scope began glowing red.
The Doctor and Jo were nearing the end of the metal
tunnel when it began to vibrate. Smoke filled the air and it
became appallingly hot. Jo staggered against a wall and
jumped back. The metal was hot too. ‘Doctor,’ she gasped,
‘what’s... happening...’ Overcome by the heat, she slid to
the floor.
Vorg looked on glumly, as the Scope took the full blast of
the Eradicator’s power. ‘There goes our living!’
Shirna was almost crying. ‘More than our living. What
about the specimens? Don’t you realise—they’re all being
killed while we watch!
6
The Monster in the Swamp
In theory the Scope should have disintegrated completely
under the beam of the Eradicator. But it did nothing of the
kind. It just sat there, glowing brightly, but still
obstinately present. Smoke poured from the bearings of the
Eradicator as it started to overheat.
‘Cease eradication,’ ordered Pletrac hurriedly. The hum
of the Eradicator died down. The glow faded from the
Scope. It appeared quite unharmed.
The silence was broken by Kalik. ‘Bravo!’ he said
ironically.
‘The machine must be armoured,’ spluttered Pletrac.
‘There must be protective forcefields...’
‘We have lost face,’ said Kalik coldly. ‘Our technology
has proved insufficient.’
Timidly Orum said, ‘The Eradicator was designed
primarily for use against organic substances...’
Pletrac looked hopefully at him. ‘So the creatures inside
the Scope...?’
‘Organic. The Eradicator will certainly have destroyed
them.’
Pletrac gave Kalik a satisfied look. ‘Good. That was our
objective. The Scope in itself is unimportant. I shall report
that the operation has been successful.’ He strode away.
Vorg and Shirna were examining the Scope. It was still a
little warm to the touch, but that was all. ‘Really built, eh?’
said Vorg admiringly. ‘None of your modern rubbish.’
‘Are you sure it isn’t damaged?’ asked Shirna
sceptically.
Vorg started to check the circuits.
The Doctor dragged Jo along the rest of the passage into a
clearer space beyond. To his relief, the terrible vibration
was dying down, and already it seemed to be getting cooler.
He lowered Jo gently to the still-warm floor. After a
moment she muttered and stirred. He put an arm round
her shoulders. ‘Come on, Jo, sit up.’
‘Not yet. I’m only half-cooked.’ Groggily she got to her
feet. ‘What happened?’
‘I’ve no idea. We were in a bit of a hot spot for a while,
weren’t we?’
‘It’s the giants. They know we’re in their machine.
They’re trying to kill us...’
The Doctor thought she might well be right—but there
was no point in telling her so. ‘Nonsense,’ he said
cheerfully. ‘Why should they attack us? We’ve done
nothing to harm them.’
‘Then what did happen?’
‘I’ve no idea. One problem at a time, eh? We’ve still got
to find our way out of here. Let’s try this way! It looks very
promising.’
‘Promising, huh?’ Jo was mopping her brow with her
handkerchief, which by now was little more than a sweat-
soaked rag. She tossed it aside, and followed the Doctor.
Vorg gave the controls another twiddle and peered into his
viewing aperture. At once he seemed to be on a bleak
moonscape. Giant silvery figures with strange projecting
handles for ears were striding towards him. But everything
was fuzzy and blurred. Shirna looked over his shoulder.
‘That’s marvellous. Who’s going to pay us good credit-bars
to look at a blob in a snow-storm?’
Vorg rubbed his hands. ‘The heat must have affected the
vision-circuit. Soon fix that. The main thing is, the
specimens are all right. Those protective force-fields must
be really something.’
He didn’t notice the grey figures of Kalik and Orum
lurking behind a pillar. They had sidled closer to
eavesdrop. They slipped away again. Once they were at a
safe distance, Kalik gave Orum a reproving stare. ‘So the
specimens were destroyed, Orum?’
‘The machine must have in-built defensive force-fields,
as the humans said.’
‘The Scope is well defended,’ said Kalik. ‘It is we who
have no defences. President Zarb and his council of fools
have betrayed us.’
Orum glanced round. ‘That is dangerous talk—even for
the President’s brother.’
Kalik lowered his voice. ‘Zarb has cut down our
defensive forces. The Eradicator is our sole protection.
Now we have just demonstrated its efficiency to those two
Lurman spies!’
‘You really think the two Lurmans are spies?’
Kalik looked at Orum. What a gullible fool the fellow
was. Of course Kalik didn’t believe Vorg and Shirna were
spies. Or rather he didn’t much care if they were spies or
not. His aim was to use their presence to embarrass Pletrac,
and his brother Zarb, as much as possible. Kalik enjoyed
stirring up trouble for its own sake. He was determined to
lose no opportunity of making political capital out of
Zarb’s error in allowing the aliens and their Scope to land
on the planet.
Kalik looked across at Vorg, who was fiddling about
inside the Scope. ‘Perhaps at this very moment he is using
a transmitter, reporting all our weaknesses to his masters!’
Orum looked at him wide-eyed. Summoning him with a
nod to follow, Kalik drew his blaster and moved stealthily
towards the Scope.
Jo had been trailing after the Doctor for what seemed a
very long time, and they were no nearer reaching an exit.
She suspected they were lost, though naturally the Doctor
refused to admit it.
They came to the mouth of a shaft and suddenly Jo
paused to pick up a crumpled scrap of cloth. ‘We’re going
round in circles, Doctor. Look, here’s the hand-kerchief I
dropped.’
The Doctor looked, at it. ‘I’m afraid you’re right, Jo.’
‘Then we’re lost,’ said Jo hopelessly.
‘No, of course not. Just a little mislaid. Tell you what,
we’ll try a new tack.’ The Doctor looked round, racking his
brains. Suddenly he snapped his fingers, ‘Got it! You see
that bulge in the wall, there? That must be part of the
housing for the impeller vanes.’
Jo gave him a tearful look. ‘That makes me feel much
better, knowing that.’
The Doctor grinned. ‘I thought it would. You see, that
means there must be an air-duct near by. And where is that
air ducted from?’
‘Outside?’ said Jo hopefully.
‘Right!’
Jo wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘Sorry to be such a
misery, Doctor. It’s just this terrible feeling that we’re not
getting anywhere.’
‘I know. Our trouble is we’re walking about inside the
blueprint instead of looking down on it—’
Jo screamed. A colossal steel spike was moving along the
shaft towards them. The Doctor grabbed Jo and they
flattened themselves against the wall. The shaft slid by
them, probed about a little, then withdrew. Relieved, Jo
watched it go. Then she screamed again. From far down
the shaft an enormous eye was peering at her...
Vorg straightened up from the Scope’s service panel. He
put down his screwdriver and rubbed a hand across his
eyes. ‘You know, Shirna, I’m not given to seeing things,
but for a moment I thought there were Terrans actually in
the works.’
Shirna didn’t answer. Vorg glanced up to find Kalik’s
blaster inches from his head. ‘Slowly, Vorg,’ said Kalik
threateningly. Vorg turned and straightened up.
Orum was holding a blaster on Shirna. ‘All right,’ said
Orum, with quavering determination. ‘Where is your
transmitter?’
Vorg wondered if everybody was going mad. ‘Your
worship, I know nothing of any transmitter...’
‘What were you doing in there?’ snapped Kalik.
‘Minor adjustments. Just silly little minor adjustments.’
‘There was a fault in the video circuits,’ confessed
Shirna eagerly.
‘Nothing of consequence, your worships,’ pleaded Vorg.
‘Nothing at all...’
Kalik waved his blaster. ‘Orum, search that cavity.’
Orum knelt and peered dubiously inside the Scope.
Kalik said, ‘If he finds a transmitter in there, Vorg...
you’re dead!’ Vorg groaned, and Shirna put her arm round
him.
‘What’s all this about a transmitter, Shirna?’ he
whispered.
Shirna shrugged. ‘Search me, I suppose he means a
beam pulser. You know, for sending messages.’
‘We haven’t got one in the Scope, have we?’
‘You ought to know. You told me you were an
electronics expert.’
Vorg sighed. ‘Well, not really an expert. To tell you the
truth, I’ve never really understood these technicalities...’
He caught sight of Kalik’s blaster again and shivered.
‘Would your worship be kind enough to move that away.
It’s very frightening.’
Orum’s muffled voice came from inside the Scope. ‘It is
rather dark in here. One can see little.’
‘Search, Orum! ‘ ordered Kalik impatiently. ‘If there is a
transmitter it will be disguised.’
Orum straightened up. ‘There is only this.’ He held a
tiny blue box in his hand.
‘Aha!’ said Kalik, giving Vorg an accusing look. ‘And
what is that?’
‘Mere bric-a-brac, your worship. Loose material. I found
it inside the circuits some time ago. Better keep it inside
the Scope or...’
He was too late. Orum felt the box move in his hand and
dropped it in panic. It fell to the ground, there was a
fearsome groaning sound and the box grew, expanding
rapidly to the size of a Police Box—which is what it was, at
least on the outside.
Near by Functionaries fled in panic. Kalik blanched but
held his ground, jabbing his blaster in Vorg’s ribs. ‘Bric-a-
brac! All right, what is it? Let’s have the truth.’
‘I tell you I found it,’ said Vorg desperately. ‘It was
causing interference.’
Orum approached the blue box cautiously. ‘Perhaps it is
a secret weapon. Why did it expand in size?’
‘I tried to warn you,’ said Vorg. ‘You took it out of the
Scope’s compression-field. Left out too long—after a
minute or two, things regain their normal size. If only you
hadn’t...’
‘It is an alien artefact,’ said Kalik. ‘How did it get in
there?’
Before she could stop herself, Shirna blurted out ‘The
Terrans! It must have been the new Terrans, Vorg.’ She
looked at the Officials. ‘I saw two new Terrans, strangers,
in circuit three.’
Vorg managed a smile. ‘Your worships, my assistant is
an imaginative child...’
‘Silence!’ ordered Kalik. ‘Orum, is it possible for
Terrans to conceal themselves in this device?’
Orum looked doubtful. ‘It wouldn’t be possible for our
technology. Terrans may be more advanced.’
Kalik nodded. Things were building up nicely. ‘The
Terrans are not even from our galaxy. Who knows what
new diseases they may bring with them.’ Kalik knew well
that rumour of a new Space Plague was a sure way to
spread panic on Inter Minor. ‘And if they find some exit
from that machine...’
Vorg tried to redeem the situation. ‘Your worships need
have no fear. Each group of specimens is enclosed in a
separate living zone. The Scope is completely and utterly
escape-proof!’
Jo and the Doctor had found the air-duct at last after much
weary clambering over, under and between the inner
workings of the Scope. Once the duct had been found they
had wriggled inside it and wormed their way along its
narrow length—only to find the far end blocked by a heavy
metal hatch.
Jo groaned in despair. The Doctor studied the hatch
thoughtfully. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not as formidable as it
looks. If I can cut through this locking-bar here...’
‘I suppose you’ve got a file in your pocket?’
‘Well as a matter of fact...’ The Doctor fished out a
length of metallic string, looped it round the bar and began
sawing it to and fro. ‘String file,’ he explained airily. Jo
smiled. No doubt the Doctor felt he’d evened things up for
her skeleton keys. The Doctor sawed away patiently. Some
while later, Jo leaned forward to inspect his progress.
‘It’s nearly through,’ she said encouragingly.
The Doctor rubbed his aching wrist. ‘So am I,’ he
groaned. The locking bar gave way at last. The Doctor
moved it aside and opened the hatch. ‘I think I’d better go
first. We don’t really know what’s out there.’ He climbed
through the opening
‘The TARDIS, I hope,’ muttered Jo as she followed him.
The Doctor helped her down on the other side. Jo looked
round astonished. She wasn’t in a machine at all now. She
was in a cave. Through its entrance she could see a
steaming, swampy, featureless landscape stretching away
into the distance.
Pletrac had returned to the cargo-bay and was listening to
the story of recent events. He looked at the TARDIS with
severe disapproval. ‘We really cannot have this sort of
thing. Regulations are quite clear on the subject.’
Vorg did his best to reassure him. ‘I assure you, your
worship, if the Scope is handled properly, it’s as safe as the
Bank of Demos...’
Shirna saw a light flickering on the Scope’s control-
panel, and called Vorg over. ‘Another fault,’ she whispered.
‘In circuit five, this time.’
Vorg was aware of the Officials watching him keenly.
‘No doubt some insignificant electrical matter,’ he said
lightly. ‘Switch on the circuit, my dear.’
Shirna obeyed, and everyone crowded to the viewing
apertures. Vorg noted sourly that the three Officials,
however much they disapproved of the Scope, were as keen
as anyone to savour its excitements.
The spectators saw, or rather seemed to be in, a steamy,
featureless landscape, a mixture of marshland and swamp.
Thick mist drifted across it, and bubbling mud geysers
made sinister glugging sounds.
Vorg spoke without looking up. ‘It’s working perfectly,
you see. Nothing wrong at all.’
Shirna looked at the control-panel. ‘It’s still signalling
the alarm.’
Kalik said. ‘What do you call the creatures who inhabit
this singularly unpleasant landscape?’
A note of real enthusiasm came into Vorg’s voice.
‘Drashigs, your worship. My little carnivores. Great
favourites with the kiddies, they are, snapping and
gnashing and tearing at each other...’
Shirna gave a scream. ‘Vorg, look! ‘
Two figures, one small and one tall, had appeared. They
were walking uncertainly across the marshlands, looking
cautiously around them.
‘The new Terrans,’ muttered Vorg. ‘They’ve broken into
circuit five!’
Shirna gave Vorg one of her nudges. ‘You’ve got to get
them out!’
‘How can I? They’re already as good as dead. Once the
Drashigs pick up their scent, they won’t stand a chance.
They’ll be torn to bits.’
‘Fascinating,’ murmured Kalik. He leaned over his
viewing aperture.
After they had been walking for what seemed a very long
time, the Doctor stopped and looked about him. The misty
marshland stretched all around, exactly the same view in
every direction. Every now and again the swamp belched
out puffs of stinking marsh-gas. ‘This is hopeless, Jo.
There’s nothing here—certainly not the TARDIS. I don’t
like the feel of this place.’
Jo shivered, despite the clammy heat. ‘Neither do I.
Let’s go back.’ They turned and started to retrace their
steps.
At his control-panel viewing aperture, Vorg shook his head
sadly. ‘They’ll never make it...’
A blood-curdling roar echoed through the swamp. Jo and
the Doctor stopped. ‘What was that?’ Jo whispered.
The Doctor shook his head. ‘No idea. But it didn’t
sound too friendly. Come on, Jo, let’s get back to the cave.’
The Doctor took the flare pistol from his pocket.
Just ahead, the swamp began to bubble and seethe. A
huge blunt head on a long scaly neck burst through the
mud. Swinging its head to and fro in search of its prey, the
Drashig let out a thunderous bellow...
7
‘Nothing escapes the Drashigs’
Jo thought she had never seen anything more terrifying in
her life. The creature was something between a dinosaur
and a dragon with squat body, powerful clawed legs, a
sinuous neck and a mouth that seemed to contain not two
but at least a dozen rows of enormous razor-edged teeth.
The eyes were small and blinking, the nostrils huge and
flared.
The monster launched itself across the mud like an
express train, hurtling straight towards them. The Doctor
raised his flare-pistol in a futile gesture of defiance... and
the monster shot past in a shower of mud, like an express
train that wasn’t due to stop.
Jo could hardly believe they were still alive. ‘Why didn’t
it attack us, Doctor?’
‘I don’t think it saw us, Jo. You saw those eyes, and
those nostrils. Visibility’s poor here and those things have
adapted. They must hunt purely by scent. It’s still
following our outward trail...’
There were more bellowings, distant, but getting nearer.
‘Sounds as if there’s more than one of them,’ said the
Doctor. ‘Come on, Jo. We’ve got to beat that monster back
to the cave.’
Shirna looked up from the Scope. ‘It’s all right, Vorg.
They’re escaping.’
Vorg shook his head mournfully. ‘Nothing escapes the
Drashigs. Even miniaturised they terrify me.’
Pletrac looked up, shaken by what he had seen. ‘How
many of these—Drashigs are there?’
‘Oh, just a small colony—twenty or so!’
‘And where do they come from?’
‘One of the satellites of Grundle.’ Vorg lowered his voice
impressively. ‘It is said that many years ago a battle-
thruster was forced to land there for emergency repairs. It
had a crew of fifty, all the latest armament. They thought
they could stand off the Drashigs while they fixed the
ship.’
‘What happened?’ asked Pletrac, fascinated despite
himself.
‘Nothing more was heard of them, so a spy-orbiter was
sent to scan the planet. The pictures showed almost
nothing left of the battle-thruster. It had been eaten. And
as for the crew...’
Even Kalik was impressed. ‘Eaten? They ate a
spaceship?’
‘Apart from a few scraps of the reactor ventricle. The
Drashigs are omnivores, you see. Their digestions can cope
with anything. Mind you,’ added Vorg, ‘they prefer flesh
when they can get it.’
Jo and the Doctor were running through the swamp. The
bellowing of the Drashigs came from all around, and it was
getting closer. They were being encircled...
A roaring Drashig burst out of the swamp ahead of
them. Then another... and another!
Jo and the Doctor stood quite still. The Drashigs waved
their heads to and fro, searching, peering with their little
eyes, sniffing with their huge nostrils.
‘Doctor, they’ll see us in a minute,’ whispered Jo. ‘That
or pick up our scent. If they all charge at once...’
The Doctor knew she was right. They might hope to
dodge one of the short-sighted monsters, but never three...
The Doctor felt the weight of the flare-pistol in his
hand. A puny weapon against three such terrors—and yet...
There was another eruption beneath the swamp, another
whiff of stinking marsh-gas. The Doctor sniffed, analysing
the contents of that smell. ‘Mostly hydrogen,’ he muttered.
‘Should be highly flammable...’
Then everything happened at once.
The three Drashigs caught their scent together. All
three bellowed and charged.
There was another eruption of marsh-gas just in front of
the charging Drashigs. The Doctor fired the flare-pistol
into the heart of it.
The marsh-gas eruption turned into a volcano of flame,
enveloping the Drashigs. Bellowing in rage and pain, they
turned and fled, hiding from the flames beneath the
swamp-mud.
The Doctor threw aside the empty flare pistol. They
turned and ran for the cave.
It came in sight at last. Just as they began a stumbling
run for its entrance, another Drashig burst from the mud,
barring their way. And this monster did see them. It
opened its mouth, roared terrifyingly and charged. This
time there was no marsh-gas and no flare-pistol to save
them.
Kalik looked accusingly at Vorg. ‘It is your duty to help
the Terrans.’
‘Me, your worship?’ Vorg backed away. ‘Put my hand
inside—with the Drashigs?’
‘You are in charge of the machine. It is your
responsibility.’
‘Oh, go on,’ urged Shirna. ‘We can’t let them be torn to
pieces.’
The Drashig was opening its mouth to swallow the Doctor
and Jo when a giant hand appeared from the sky and batted
it away. The Drashig flew through the air, to land
splashing and roaring some distance away. The hand
hurriedly withdrew, and the Doctor and Jo sprinted for the
cave.
Once they were safely inside, Jo gasped. ‘That hand,
Doctor...’
‘We’ll discuss that later,’ said the Doctor hurriedly.
‘Let’s get back into the machine.’ He helped Jo through the
little gap at the back of the cave.
They wriggled back down the air duct and started
moving through the machine once more. When they came
to a fairly open space between two huge circuits, Jo sank to
the ground. ‘Sorry, Doctor, I’ve just got to have a rest.’
The Doctor sat down beside her. ‘I seem to be feeling
the centuries a little myself.’
Jo yawned. ‘That swamp we were in? It wasn’t the real
outside, was it?’
‘No. It was another simulated environment. Just like the
ship.’
‘Isn’t it about time you told me where we are, Doctor?’
The Doctor sighed. He’d have to break it to her sooner
or later. ‘We’re inside a MiniScope, Jo—Scope, for short.’
‘Inside a what?’
‘You remember what I was saying about a boy with a
bucket? And you’ve seen those glass cases people keep
colonies of ants in?’
Jo gave him a horrified look. ‘You mean Major Daly and
all those people on the ship are specimens, in some kind of
peepshow? And outside there are people—creatures—
looking at them just for kicks? That’s terrible! ‘
‘Well, thoughtless, maybe,’ said the Doctor gently. ‘Did
you ever visit a zoo? Keep a goldfish in a glass bowl?’
‘That’s different! We’re not animals!’
‘We are to the people out there, Jo.’ The Doctor gave a
very fair imitation of a showman’s patter. ‘Roll up, roll up.
See these fascinating little animals in their native habitat.
Watch their funny tricks, poke ‘em with a stick and make
‘em jump.’
‘Stop it, Doctor! It isn’t funny.’
‘I agree with you, Jo,’ said the Doctor seriously. ‘In fact I
had a great deal to do with getting these Mini-Scopes
banned. I persuaded the Time Lords they were an offence
against the dignity of sentient life-forms.’
‘I thought the Time Lords never interfered?’
The Doctor chuckled. ‘They don’t usually. I refused to
shut up until they agreed to have Scopes outlawed by
Intergalactic Convention. Officially they were all called in
and shut down.’
‘So how come we’re inside one?’
‘Somehow this must have been missed. And
unfortunately the TARDIS materialised inside its
compression-field.’
Jo sighed. ‘So here we are, all nicely wrapped up with
the other specimens.’
The Doctor clapped her on the shoulder. ‘Cheer up Jo.
We’ll get out of here.’
An echoing roar in the distance brought them both to
their feet. They hurried on their way.
Outside the cave in the swamplands, about half-adozen
Drashigs were milling savagely about. Fighting and
clawing each other, they poured into the cave. Struggling
in the confined space, they made for the open hatchway in
the rear.
Shirna glanced up from the Scope. ‘Vorg, come and look.
Some of the Drashigs are trying to follow the Terrans.’
Vorg looked and shuddered. ‘I should have known.
Drashigs never leave a scent—not with any kind of meal at
the end of it.’
‘Suppose they get out of the circuit, Vorg? Anything
could happen.’ Shirna lowered her voice to a terrified
whisper. ‘They might even get out of the Scope.’
Vorg looked round uneasily. ‘You keep your thoughts to
yourself, my girl. We’re in quite enough trouble already!’
The first Drashig found the hatchway at the end of the
cave too small. Seizing the edge of the metal in its mighty
jaws, it ripped at it like someone opening a sardine can.
Slavering ferociously it enlarged the hole, tearing off great
chunks of the heavy metal. When the space was big
enough, it squeezed through, roaring triumphantly. More
Drashigs followed. The terrifying chorus of their howls
reached Jo and the Doctor as they staggered ant-like
through the interior of the machine, desperately looking
for a way out. Behind them they could hear the monsters
coming even closer. They broke into a tired run.
‘We’ve got one advantage, Jo,’ said the Doctor
encouragingly, as they squeezed past a piston. ‘We’re
smaller than they are.’
‘That’s an advantage?’
‘Well, at least we can make better time in these narrow
spaces.’
Just as the Doctor spoke they came to a dead end. A
Drashig bellowed behind them. ‘Start climbing, Jo.’
ordered the Doctor. A chain led into the darkness above
them. They started to climb it, using the huge links like
the rungs of a ladder.
The Doctor swung himself on to the top of a valve
casing, and pulled Jo after him. From below came echoing
roars as the ferociously determined Drashigs ranged round
seeking their prey.
‘They’ll find a way up here soon,’ said Jo hopelessly.
‘Those things never give up.’
‘Then neither shall we,’ said the Doctor. ‘Come on, Jo.
We’re not done for yet.’
After ages of twisting and turning and clambering
through the cramped spaces between the machinery, they
seemed to leave the Drashigs behind for at least a while.
They came to a horizontal shaft, stretching beneath them
like a great canyon. ‘Logically, there’s an extractor at the
bottom of that shaft,’ said the Doctor. ‘That really will lead
to the outside.’
Jo peered over the edge. ‘Too far to jump, too smooth to
climb. Now what?’
There came more bellows from behind. The Drashigs
were still on the trail.
The Doctor had produced pencil and paper and was
trying to work out a rough sketch-map of the inside of the
Scope. ‘We need a bit of lateral thinking, Jo.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A sort of sideways approach. You use it when there
aren’t any logical answers.’ The Doctor pointed to his map.
‘You see we can’t go forward because of the drop and we
can’t go back because—’
More shattering roars, nearer this time, made it
unnecessary for him to finish.
‘I get it,’ said Jo, ‘we just go sideways.’
‘Don’t be so literal, Jo. If we go sideways,’ the Doctor
peered at his map again, ‘we’ll end up back on the ship.’
‘There you are then,’ said Jo triumphantly. ‘There’s rope
on the ship. I saw coils of it in the hold. We’ll use the rope
to get down the shaft. You’re brilliant, Doctor.’
‘I am?’
Jo grinned. ‘Lateral thinking—when in doubt, go
sideways!’
Clambering across the circuits and squeezing in and out
of narrow spaces, they finally came upon one of the
octagonal plates through which they’d first entered the
machine:
The Doctor wriggled up the access shaft and opened it
with the core-extractor. He slid the hatch back and peered
through. To his surprise and delight, he had come up not
outside Daly’s cabin but in the hold itself. ‘Here’s a piece
of luck, Jo,’ he called. ‘We’ve arrived in just the right
place.’ He helped her through the hatch and they made
their way over to the coils of rope.
‘How much do we need?’ whispered Jo.
‘One of these bigger coils should do.’
The roar of a hungry Drashig came from below them.
The Doctor slipped the coil of rope over his shoulder.
‘Come on, Jo. I don’t think there’s much time.’
Light streamed in as the hatchway to the deck was
thrown open. Jo caught a glimpse of feet descending, and
the Doctor dragged her into hiding. She heard the voice of
Lieutenant Andrews. ‘Can’t see anything wrong here, sir.’
Major Daly’s voice said, ‘Heard it plainly, I tell you.
Sounded just like the Hound of the bally Baskervilles! ‘
‘You’re sure it came from the hold, sir?’
‘Positive, old boy. Positive.’
‘Maybe some of the cargo’s shifted,’ suggested Andrews.
‘Made some kind of groaning as it rolled...’ He glanced
round the hold, looking for anything out of place. Then he
spotted something. A projecting foot.
‘Oh well, best forget it,’ said Daly. ‘Must be hearin’
things, what? Too long at sea. Thank goodness it’s Bombay
tomorrow. Gad, I look forward to a tub of fresh water. The
old briny might be all right for fish...’
Using Daly’s chatter as cover, Andrews crept forward
until he was close enough to leap on Jo and drag her from
her hiding place.
Daly was astonished. ‘I say, a little Memsahib!’ he
exclaimed. He showed no sign of recognising her.
All right,’ said Andrews grimly. ‘When did you stow
away?’
Jo sighed. ‘Here we go again!’
Andrews took her by the arm. ‘You’d better come with
us!’
The Doctor was hiding quite close to Jo but, content
with his capture, Andrews made no attempt to search
further. The Doctor considered rescuing her, but decided
against it, at least for the moment. The job of going into
the Drashig-infested Scope and climbing down the shaft
was one he’d as soon tackle alone. Now that they were out
of their artificially induced aggressive state, there was little
danger that the people on the ship would harm her. Once
he himself was free, he’d find some safe way to get her out.
The Doctor started gathering up coils of rope.
Jo was taken to the saloon, allowed to sit down and
given a glass of orange squash which she downed
gratefully. The atmosphere this time was quite friendly.
Her arrival seemed to be regarded as an amusing curiosity.
Clare Daly poured her another glass of squash. ‘Why
don’t you tell John how you got on board?’ she said. ‘He’s
really quite nice, you know.’
‘I’m sure he is,’ said Jo. ‘But I’m afraid he’d never
believe me.’ She looked curiously at Clare. ‘How long have
you been on this ship?’
‘Nearly four weeks, why?’
Jo leaned forward. ‘Doesn’t it ever seem like ages? Don’t
you ever feel you’ve been doing the same things time and
time again?’
For a long moment Clare stared at her. It seemed as if
some memory might be breaking through. Then she shook
her head almost angrily. ‘I’m sorry. I just don’t know what
you mean.’
Jo smiled. ‘Never mind,’ she said gently.
Andrews came into the room. ‘The Captain wants to see
you, young lady.’
Jo got up. ‘Oh well, anything for a change.’
Andrews was puzzled by her attitude. ‘He’s certain to
put you under arrest,’ he warned.
‘Last time he was too busy to even see me.’
Andrews too stared curiously at her, as if haunted by
some fugitive memory. ‘Last time?’
A Drashig roar, now terrifyingly close, interrupted
them. Daly turned to Andrews. ‘You see, my boy, I was
right. There was something in the hold! ‘ The two men ran
from the room.
His rope in a coil over his shoulder, the Doctor was
about to leave by the octagonal hatch when he also heard
the roar. It was no more than a few feet away.
The roar came again, and then again. A Drashig thrust
its head through the steel wall of the hull, like a circus
animal bursting through a paper hoop.
8
The Battle on the Ship
The many-fanged head weaved round in the darkness of
the hold. The beady short-sighted eyes focused on the
Doctor, and the Drashig hurled itself forwards with a roar.
The Doctor dodged to one side, the hatchway was flung
open, and Andrews, Daly and half-a-dozen sea-men, all
armed with rifles, found themselves staring straight at the
charging Drashig.
‘I don’t believe it,’ spluttered Daly.
Andrews was more practical. ‘Fire!’ he yelled.
Andrews and Daly led the seamen in a ragged volley.
Screaming with pain and rage the Drashig hurled itself
bodily across the hold and burst out of the hatch on to the
deck, scattering men to all sides. In its progress it knocked
down a pile of crates, most of which landed on top of the
Doctor.
Andrews and Daly picked themselves up and made for
the saloon, where Clare and Jo were waiting terrified. ‘Did
you see the Doctor?’ called Jo.
Andrews ignored her. ‘You stay here, Major,’ he called.
‘Look after the ladies.’
Andrews ran out on deck. The Drashig had made its
way forward and was rampaging across the decks. The
Captain and a grim-faced group of seamen stood by with
rifles, waiting for a shot at it.
As Andrews arrived, a seaman came running up with a
heavy Thompson sub-machine gun. The Captain took it.
‘Now we should be able to settle it,’ he said. ‘This thing’ll
stop anything! ‘
‘I know where there’s something even more useful, sir,’
called Andrews. ‘Dynamite, in the aft hold.’
‘Good man,’ said the Captain. ‘See what you can do.’
Andrews dashed away.
The Drashig changed its course and started moving
towards them. Daly stuck his head out of the saloon
window and called to the Captain. ‘Take cover here, sir.
We can fire through the window.’
The Captain ran into the saloon with the machine gun.
Daly already had the saloon portholes thrown wide open.
Clare and Jo were sheltering behind a sofa. Daly
immediately took charge, with the assurance of an old
military man. It was ten years since he’d seen action on the
Western Front, but he was still ready to do his best. Firmly
he took the sub-machine gun from the Captain. ‘If you’ll
just let me have that, sir, I’ll take the main charge here, and
you can post your rifle-men out on deck, some each side of
the saloon.’
The Captain nodded and ran out. Daly waited grim-
faced as the Drashig’s roars came nearer. Suddenly the
monster’s slavering head appeared at the saloon window.
Clare screamed. Daly fired a long raking burst with the
sub-machine gun, pouring the entire magazine of .45
calibre bullets into the Drashig’s body. At the same time
the Captain and crew were firing their rifles into its flanks.
Not even a Drashig could stand up to such a hail of
bullets. Torn almost to pieces the monster lurched back
roaring, and collapsed on the edge of the deck. The weight
of the body smashed through the deck-rails, and the dying
monster slithered slowly into the sea. Everyone stopped
shooting, and an uncanny silence fell. Only the blood-
stained bullet-torn deck showed that a battle had just taken
place.
In the hold, the Doctor, half-stunned, was struggling
from beneath his pile of crates. He saw a kneeling figure
crouched over a wooden box, breaking the wire binding
round the lid. It was. Andrews.
There came a shattering roar. Another Drashig was
forcing its way through the shattered wall.
Andrews spun round and lit the fuse on a stick of
dynamite. The Doctor struggled to his feet. ‘No, don’t.
You’ll wreck the Scope and kill us all.’
Andrews hurled the sputtering dynamite stick at the
Drashig. The dynamite exploded in mid-air, blowing the
monster back down the shaft. Andrews lit a second stick,
threw it, then turned and ran from the hold. The second
stick of dynamite went off halfway down the shaft,
exploding devastatingly in the confined space. There was a
brilliant white flash and a prolonged roar. The Doctor
went to the gap. Smoke was drifting upwards, and molten
metal trickled down the walls. ‘Oh dear,’ said the Doctor,
‘now that’s really done i t!’
He wondered again about going back for Jo, but decided
against it. Judging from the silence, the Drashigs were
beaten off for the moment. Jo would be far safer where she
was than where he was going. Settling the rope round his
shoulders, the Doctor opened the octagonal hatch and
began to climb down the shaft.
Jo was just about to slip out of the saloon and look for
the Doctor when Daly came back from his inspection of
the deck.
‘Sorry about all the fuss, my dear,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m
sure the Captain won’t keep you very long. By Jove, that
beast took a bit of stopping, eh? Think we all deserve a
chota peg, what?’ Suiting the action to the word, Daly
poured himself a stiff drink.
Clare looked up shuddering. ‘What a terrible beast. I’ve
never seen anything like it, have you?’
Daly shook his head solemnly.
‘Well, I have,’ said Jo. ‘There are quite a lot of them
about.’
Daly nodded. ‘Strange waters, these, my dear. Always
said so.’
Jo suddenly became impatient with the banal
conversation. She tried to slip past Daly, but he put out a
restraining arm, blocking the doorway. ‘Please let me go,’
she said pleadingly. ‘I’ve got to find the Doctor.’
‘Feeling a bit umpty,’ said Daly sympathetically. ‘Not
surprising after all you’ve been through. We’ll get the
ship’s Doctor to take a look at you soon.’
‘Not the ship’s Doctor,’ said Jo. ‘My Doctor—oh, never
mind! ‘
Andrews came into the saloon. He had changed into a
fresh uniform, and was his old immaculate self. Daly
looked up. ‘Hullo, old chap, sundowner?’
Clare looked up, her face calm and composed again.
‘Daddy, John and I are going for a walk round the deck.’
Andrews smiled. ‘That’s right. Twenty times round the
deck is a mile. Coming, Clare?’
Jo stared at them with a mixture of amusement and
horror. They were settling calmly back into their old
grooves again. Things weren’t exactly the same, but near
enough. No doubt everything would soon be back to its
unvarying normal. ‘You’ve forgotten everything, haven’t
you?’ she burst out.
Daly turned and stared at her, whisky-glass in hand.
‘’Pon my soul!’
‘And who might you be?’ demanded Andrews sternly.
Jo looked at him defiantly. ‘How do you know I’m not a
passenger? None of you can remember anything of more
than ten minutes back—so how do you know?’ Jo could
feel herself getting hysterical. She stared wildly round the
saloon. ‘Can’t you remember me?’ she asked. ‘Don’t you
remember fighting that monster?’
Clare Daly gave her a pitying look. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t
know what you’re talking about.’
‘Monster? What monster?’ Daly chuckled. ‘Seen the sea-
serpent, have you?’
‘We were attacked by a monster,’ said Jo desperately. ‘I
was with you when you shot it down...’ Before any of them
could stop her, she rushed blindly from the saloon.
Daly drained his drink and poured another. ‘Poor gel.
Must be suffering from a touch of the sun.’
Andrews nodded. ‘Still, can’t have stowaways running
about. I’d better round her up.’
As he walked from the saloon, Daly called. ‘Look out for
the monster, old chap! ‘
Clare smiled to herself. Monsters! Of all the absurd
ideas.
Pletrac, Kalik and Orum were engaged in yet another of
their unending conferences on the subject of Vorg and
Shirna and their Scope. Kalik, as usual, was being
awkward. ‘According to law, the Lurmans should be
deported and their specimens destroyed.’
It was Orum who asked the unanswerable question.
‘How?’
‘How indeed,’ agreed Pletrac. ‘Since the Eradicator has
no effect, we should deport both Lurmans and machine.’
‘That is not within the authority of this Tribunal,’
objected Kalik. ‘To do that you must obtain special powers
from President Zarb.’
Pletrac sighed wearily. ‘That will take some time.’ ‘No
doubt. But it is the correct procedure.’
Pletrac sighed wearily. ‘Very well, I will seek special
powers from Zarb. Make sure the Eradicator Functionaries
remain alert.’ Pletrac bustled away. Kalik smiled—and
Orum stared wonderingly at him.
Over by the Scope, Shirna was looking at a flashing
light on the control panel. ‘Vorg, there’s another fault
signalled.’
Vorg shrugged. ‘A minor blockage in one of the feed
lines. It’ll correct itself.’
‘That minor blockage is probably a Drashig,’ said
Shirna. ‘Look!’ She switched over to circuit five. The area
round the cave in the marshes was completely deserted.
‘See—not a Drashig in sight.’
‘Nothing unusual in that.’ Vorg’s voice was defensive.
‘The little dears are shy.’
‘You know what they’re like, Vorg. They mill around
for hours after a kill. Some of those Drashigs are loose
inside the Scope. They’re roaming around out of their
circuit!’
A cold voice spoke from behind them. ‘The machine has
become dangerous in some way?’ It was Kalik. Orum, as
ever, at his side, both had slipped up quietly.
Vorg waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh no, your worship,
not at all.’
‘Oh, tell ’em the truth,’ said Shirna wearily. ‘What does
it matter now? We think some of the Drashigs have broken
out of their circuit. They followed the Terrans into the
cave and they haven’t come out again.’
‘Where does the cave lead?’
Shirna said, ‘Down into the supply lines. There’s a
control valve at the back.’
‘Well.’ said Vorg angrily. ‘If the Drashigs have got out—
and I’m not saying for a moment they have—whose
suggestion was it that I should help the Terrans to escape,
eh, Shirna?’
‘Mine!’ said Kalik.
‘And a most merciful and compassionate suggestion too,
your worship,’ said Vorg swiftly.
Orum looked strangely at Kalik. ‘Merciful and
compassionate? You, Kalik?’
Kalik smiled coldly. ‘One has twinges.’
Orum and Kalik strolled up to one of the Official ramps,
and stood viewing the busy Spaceport. There was no one
near them. Quietly Orum said, ‘You expect these Drashigs
to follow the escaping Terrans?’
‘They follow a scent for ever, never give up. Or so Vorg
tells us. If the Terrans escape from the machine, the
Drashigs will follow them.’
‘What is to be gained by that?’
‘Possibly the world.’ Kalik’s voice was low and fanatical.
‘Ever since the great Space Plague, we have stood alone and
been strong. Now Zarb is changing our ways.’
Orum protested. ‘But the Functionaries are restless.
Perhaps we need change.’
‘What we need, Orum, is something to unite us. We
need a leader—and we need a war!’
‘And who will give us all this?’
‘I will,’ said Kalik quietly. ‘By leading a rebellion
against my brother Zarb.’
9
Kalik Plans Rebellion
Although there was no one near by, Orum looked
anxiously about him. ‘Zarb’s position is secure... how will
you achieve rebellion?’
‘Suppose these Drashigs escape from the Scope and
cause havoc in the City? Who would be blamed? President
Zarb! The Scope and the Drashigs are here only because of
his liberal policies.’
‘No doubt ill feeling would spring up—with a little
calculated encouragement. But you forget the Eradicator.
Once they leave the Scope’s protective force-field, the
Eradicator can destroy the Drashigs with ease.’
Kalik nodded. ‘True, Orum. If it is in working order.
Come!’
Kalik led the way down the ramp. He strolled up to the
Eradicator Functionaries and dismissed them. Since they
were mere Functionaries, and he was an Official, they
obeyed without question.
He turned to Orum. ‘You have technical knowledge.
Remove some small but vital part.’
Nervously Orum slipped behind the Eradicator,
returning moments later with a serrated crystal strip. ‘This
is the Tryizon Focuser. The Eradicator is useless without
it.’
They had achieved their piece of sabotage just in time.
Pletrac came bustling back across the Spaceport.
‘President Zarb has granted our tribunal the special
powers,’ he announced importantly. ‘The two Lurmans
and their Scope are to be deported. A special Transporter is
being arranged.’
Kalik pointed to the TARDIS. ‘And the Terran
container?’
‘That will be deported too, and jettisoned in deep space.’
Suddenly Pletrac noticed that the Eradicator was
unguarded. ‘Where are the Functionaries?’
‘In the guard block,’ said Kalik. ‘One relieved them of
duty. They appeared fatigued.’
Pletrac turned to Orum. ‘Fetch them at once!’ Orum
scurried away. ‘You have exceeded your authority, Kalik,’
Pletrac went on. ‘There will be an inquiry. Is that clear?’
‘Perfectly, Chairman Pletrac. Perfectly clear.’ With an
insolent nod, Kalik strolled across the Spaceport towards
the alcove with the Scope. He saw Vorg and Shirna leaning
over it, and moved quietly closer, finally reaching a
position behind a pillar where he could listen unobserved.
‘Look at all these dials, Vorg,’ he heard Shirna say.
Then Vorg’s voice. ‘What about them?’
‘They’re suddenly dropping lower, all of them. It’s a
general power failure.’
Vorg stared at the dials, shaking his head unbelievingly.
‘The generators were built by the old Eternity Perpetuity
company. Designed to last for ever—that’s why the
company went bankrupt!’ He bent over the dials, adjusting
the controls. ‘Something pretty drastic must have
happened in there,’ he grumbled. ‘It’d take an explosion to
do this much damage...’
Shirna watched him. ‘Those dials are still dropping.
They’ll soon be down to critical point.’
Vorg looked up. ‘There should be enough power in the
circuits to keep them ticking over for a while.’
‘Long enough to repair it?’
‘Perhaps. If only I hadn’t lost the manual...’
Shirna gave him a disgusted look, and Kalik stepped out
of hiding. The Scope was a vital part of his plan, and he
didn’t want anything going wrong with it—not yet, at any
rate. Not until those Drashigs had escaped. ‘What is the
matter?’ he asked.
Vorg gave a guilty start. ‘Oh, just routine maintenance,
your worship.’
‘I have reconsidered my position,’ said Kalik, lying
smoothly. ‘I have made a recommendation that you be
allowed to stay. President Zarb is favourably considering
it. However, if your machine is no longer in working
order...’
‘A minor fault, your worship, nothing more. I shall
repair it at once.’ Vorg leaped towards the tool-bag.
But the damage to the Scope was far beyond repair—as the
Doctor could have witnessed. Picking his way through the
complex machine’s interior, he was appalled at the amount
of destruction. The explosion of Andrews’s dynamite
seemed to have set off a chain reaction. All around him, the
great metal shapes were twisted and warped. The steady
pulsing glow of the valves had become an erratic flickering,
and the low hum of power an agonised groan.
Stretched across one circuit, the Doctor found the
charred body of a Drashig. The creature had bitten
through a power cable, and had paid the penalty. No doubt
there were more of them roaming the works, doing
incalculable damage, as their savage teeth chewed through
metal and plastic.
The Doctor reached the steep shaft he had found with
Jo. He tied the end of his rope to a cross strut, tossed the
coil over the edge, and began descending hand over hand
into the depths.
Down and down the Doctor went, into the darkness of
the shaft. Soon he was encouraged by a faint glow of light
at the very bottom. But before he reached it, the Doctor’s
luck, and his rope, ran out. Swinging on the end of the
rope, the Doctor thought hard.
He could climb all the way up the rope, go back to the
ship, get more rope, then come down again... the thought
of going through all that was intolerable, not to mention
the risks of being eaten by a Drashig or re-captured by the
ship’s crew. Moreover, he was tiring now. He doubted if he
had the strength to make it to the top again.
The Doctor took a calculated risk. According to his own
estimations he must be fairly near the bottom by now—
and there was only one way to find out. He flexed his
knees, and let go of the rope.
The fall was a surprisingly short one. He bent his legs as
he hit the bottom, and rolled over on one shoulder like a
parachutist. Picking himself up, he looked about. He was
in a dark and empty space with metal walls, like an aircraft
hangar. He guessed that he was now underneath the
machinery, and in the very bottom of the Scope. He looked
around and saw the gleam of light he had spotted from the
shaft, and ran towards it.
The gleam came from a slight gap caused by the
buckling of a metal base-plate. It was—just—wide enough
to let him through. The Doctor started squeezing through
the gap.
He was so intent on getting out, that he gave little
thought to what he might find on the other side. Not until
he was through the gap did he straighten up and look
around.
The spectacle was terrifying. High, high above him
disappearing into nothingness rose a sheer metal cliff —the
outside wall of the Scope. He was in a vast open space
through which moved giant forms pushing enormous
metal objects. Dizzy, the Doctor spun round. Some huge
shape was dominating the landscape before him. There was
something familiar about it. Suddenly the Doctor realised
what it was. He was looking at a giant golden boot! The
boot rose and came down, and the Doctor realised he was
in danger of being crushed like an ant.
He ran into the middle of the echoing confusion,
desperate to escape. But his legs were giving way beneath
him, and his head was spinning round. He stumbled and
fell...
The appearance of the Doctor from the Scope caused an
even bigger sensation than the arrival of the TARDIS
before him. No one had noticed the ant-like figure emerge
from the base of the Scope. But released from the Scope’s
compression-field it started to grow... and grow... and
grow...
There was panic, Functionaries were fleeing in all
directions...
When the Doctor grew only to normal size, and did
nothing more threatening than lay on the floor
unconscious, the panic died down.
Vorg, Shirna and the three Minoran Officials gathered
round the body. The Doctor began to stir, and Pletrac
jumped back in panic. ‘Eradicator, Eradicator!’ he shouted
in alarm. The Eradicator Functionaries had made off, and
Pletrac ran to fetch them back.
The Doctor struggled to a sitting position. He looked
round, relieved to find himself normal size again. Leaning
over him were two humanoids in tattered gold finery, one
female and one male.
Two male humanoids in grey robes were hovering near
by.
Shirna put an arm round the Doctor’s shoulders, and
helped him to get up. ‘Feeling better, dear?’ she said
brightly, and the Doctor grinned at the homely remark. He
stood up, swaying a little—and found himself looking into
the mouth of an electronic cannon. A grey-robed
humanoid, an older white-haired one this time, was giving
orders to the brutish uniformed figures manning the gun.
Vorg and Shirna jumped back instinctively. ‘Leave him
alone,’ shouted Shirna. ‘He hasn’t done anything. It’s one
of the Terrans from the Scope.’
‘It must be eradicated at once,’ ordered Pletrac. ‘Get
away from it—it’s probably crawling with alien germs!’
Swaying a little the Doctor now stood alone, the
Eradicator trained on him at point-blank range. Still half-
unaware of his danger, he was trying to make sense of the
noise and confusion around him.
He heard Vorg’s voice. ‘Come away, Shirna, the noble
master is right. The thing must be destroyed.’
He heard Pletrac’s command. ‘Detachment! One charge
at maximum intensity! Fire!’
Too weak to dodge or to run, the Doctor looked straight
down the muzzle of the Eradicator.
10
The Doctor Takes Over
As the Eradicator Functionary’s finger was about to
descend on the firing button, a thin, grey-robed figure
stepped between the Doctor and the muzzle of the cannon.
Raising his hand, Kalik said, ‘Stop!’
The Functionary snatched his hand away. To fire upon
an Official would be unthinkable. Kalik exchanged a swift
glance with the tubby Orum, who was hovering as usual on
the sidelines. As they both knew, the Doctor was really in
no danger whatsoever since the Eradicator had been
sabotaged. But if Kalik’s plan was to succeed this must not
be discovered until the Drashigs burst out of the Scope.
Therefore, the Eradicator must not be fired before then,
and the Doctor had to be saved. Kalik had taken his action
on impulse. Now his agile brain was looking for ways to
justify it.
Pletrac hurried up, gobbling with rage. ‘Stand aside,
Kalik! ‘
Kalik did not move. ‘This procedure is not in order.
The Eradicator cannot be used without authority from
President Zarb.’
‘But surely in an emergency...’
‘One alien does not constitute an emergency.’
‘The function of our tribunal is to keep this planet
clean. The Terran creature is from outside our Solar
system and is a possible carrier of contagion. Furthermore,
the creature may well be hostile.’
The Doctor was recovering fast now, and he was
becoming rather tired of being discussed as though he
wasn’t there. He marched up to Pletrac and said, ‘Kindly
stop referring to me as “the creature”, sir, or I may well
become exceedingly hostile!’
Pletrac jumped away from the tall figure. ‘Silence, alien.
The tribunal is deliberating.’
‘The tribunal is not deliberating, it is wrangling. And
quite nonsensically too, if I may say so!’
Pletrac was outraged. ‘I warn you, this tribunal will not
tolerate insolent remarks from unauthorised alien life-
forms!’
Changing his tack, the Doctor smiled down at the fussy
little Official. ‘I wonder if you’d be kind enough to tell me
exactly where I am? What planet, I mean?’
‘You are on Inter Minor,’ said Pletrac importantly.
Surely this would impress the alien.
The Doctor looked dejected. ‘Not Metebelis Three,
famous blue planet of the Acteon Galaxy?’ he inquired
sadly.
‘No.’
The Doctor sighed, abandoning all hopes of winning his
argument with Jo. ‘Ah well, never mind.’ He walked over
to the TARDIS, and gave the blue box a pat. ‘Well, at least
you’re all right, old girl.’
Pletrac and the other Officials had followed him. ‘This
container is yours?’ demanded Pletrac.
‘It is indeed,’ said the Doctor. Standing near the
TARDIS he saw another shape—a tall cylinder on legs,
viewing apertures around the sides. He strode across to it.
‘Just as I thought. A MiniScope! ‘ He whirled round on
Pletrac. ‘This is outrageous! Is this disgraceful device
yours?’
So angry was the Doctor’s tone that Pletrac found
himself replying defensively. ‘Certainly not. It is the
property of the Lurman entertainer here. The female is his
assistant.’
The Doctor turned his stern gaze on the two
entertainers in their shabby gold finery. He saw Shirna’s
worried face and remembering her earlier kindness, made a
courtly bow. Shirna curtsied back, suppressing a nervous
giggle.
The Doctor returned his attention to Pletrac, ‘I see.
Well, I’ll deal with them later. And you are?’
‘Chairman Pletrac of the Alien Admissions Tribunal.
One’s colleagues are Commissioner Kalik and
Commissioner Orum.’
Apparently addressing the air, Kalik said, ‘One wonders
why the Tribunal is submitting to questioning by the alien,
instead of questioning it? Surely that is the wrong way
round?’
It took more than a little sarcasm to worry the Doctor.
He looked severely at the three grey-robed Commissioners.
‘Well, gentlemen, I’m sorry to have to tell you that you are
in very serious trouble.’
Orum shook his head. ‘One is forced to admire the
creature’s audacity.’
Kalik said nothing. He was weighing up the Doctor,
wondering how he could best make use of him.
The Doctor’s own behaviour had been calculated from
the very first. As long as Jo Grant was inside the Scope, she
was still in great danger. There was simply no time for all
the nonsense of imprisonment and interrogation that
usually followed unexplained arrival on some alien planet.
He had to dominate these Minorans from the start, force
them to help him.
Nothing less than Jo’s life was at stake.
He gave Chairman Pletrac another unnerving frown. ‘I
take it you and your Commission are representatives of
authority on this planet?’
‘One’s authority comes direct from President Zarb,’ said
Pletrac proudly.
The Doctor promptly deflated him. ‘Then yours is the
responsibility. You have allowed the importation —and
operation—of a device expressly forbidden by Intergalactic
Law.’
‘One did not allow it,’ protested Pletrac. ‘One has
already ordered the deportation of the entertainers and
their machine.’
The Doctor sighed wearily. His manner was that of
some High Court Judge, all too used to seeing petty
criminals trying to wriggle out of their responsibilities.
‘Nevertheless, the machine is here—and it is in operation.
You’ll scarcely deny that?’
Confused, Pletrac stammered, ‘Well... strictly speaking,
one is forced to concede the fact that... in a sense...’
The Doctor cut ruthlessly through the waffle. ‘Precisely.
As a direct result of your carelessness, my young female
companion is still inside that device, in a situation of
extreme peril.’
Pletrac made an attempt to fight back. ‘One is forced to
remind you, alien, that the question before this Tribunal is
your own possible eradication as a menace to public
health.’
The Doctor went on as if Pletrac hadn’t spoken. ‘If
you’ll allow me to rescue my companion, and do something
for the other unfortunates imprisoned in that disgraceful
device—I’m prepared to overlook the whole unfortunate
business.’
‘One is indeed overwhelmed,’ said Kalik dryly.
The Doctor turned his back on them. ‘If not—well,
you’ll just have to take the consequences. Let me know
when you’ve made up your minds.’ Folding his arms the
Doctor gazed into space, as if the whole debate was of only
minimal interest to him. But beneath his apparent calm, he
was in a turmoil, wondering if his bluff would work. His
experienced eyes had summed up the Minorans very
quickly. He was gambling that like all authoritarians, they
would harass and bully anyone who seemed weaker than
themselves, while responding favourably to a display of
force and bluster.
As the Doctor waited, Vorg and Shirna were observing
him. There was an expression of tremendous admiration
on Vorg’s face. Himself a born coward, terrified by all
authority, he was lost in wonder at the way this tall, elegant
figure had dealt with the Officials. ‘Marvellous,’ he
breathed. ‘What audacity! You know, Shirna, I do believe
he’s one of us!’
‘One of us? He’s a Terran, isn’t he?’
‘The brotherhood of showmen is Intergalactic,’ said
Vorg loftily. ‘He’s got to be in the carnival business, Shirna.
Look at his manner, look at his clothes. I recognise the
type, I tell you. I’ve worked many a Terran fairground.’
Shirna looked wistfully at the Doctor. ‘You may be
right. He’s certainly got style.’
‘I’d lay a wager on it. He’s got the measure of those grey-
faced fools right enough.’ Somehow Vorg drew courage
from the Doctor’s defiance of Officialdom.
As usual the Official conference had ended in
disagreement. Pletrac was for eradicating the Doctor at
once on grounds of general hygiene. Kalik was desperate to
stop any attempt to use the Eradicator, and Orum, as usual,
followed Kalik.
‘Admit it, Pletrac,’ said Kalik. ‘You are outvoted.’
As a good Official Pletrac had no choice but to defer to
the decisions of his tribunal. ‘Oh, very well.’ He waved a
hand. ‘Eradicator Unit, stand down. But remain here. You
may yet be needed.’
The Doctor had observed the decision. With a well-
concealed sigh of relief he turned round. ‘Thank you,
gentlemen.’ He bowed to Kalik. ‘And thank you, sir, for a
most timely intervention.’
As the Doctor turned and strode away, Pletrac called,
‘Alien! Where are you going?’
The Doctor paused. ‘Just over here, sir. I have work to
do.’ He moved over to the Scope and started examining it.
Pletrac looked keenly at Kalik. ‘One confesses one is
puzzled, Kalik. What use is this Terran to you?’
Kalik was wondering the same thing himself, but he
shrugged indifferently and said, ‘Of no possible use.’
‘You never do anything without a reason, Kalik. One is
wondering why you bothered to save the Terran’s life.’
Kalik gave his cold smile. ‘Out of mercy and
compassion, Pletrac. Vorg will tell you.’ He strolled away,
Orum at his heels. Pletrac looked after them, worried. He
decide to watch and wait. He would also send a message
requesting more powers from President Zarb, so as to
resolve this intolerable situation.
Vorg and Shirna watched from the background as the
tall alien examined the Scope. Despite the fact that the
machine was their property, they lacked the courage to
protest, or even to ask him what he was doing.
Shirna said, ‘Go on, Vorg, offer to help him. Maybe he’ll
put in a good word for us.’
Vorg plucked up his courage. ‘Perhaps you’re right. I
mean, he is a fellow showman...’ An idea struck him. ‘Here
I I’ll just see if he talks the palare.’ Vorg was referring to
the universal showman’s slang, which had spread out from
Terra and across the galaxy.
He sidled up to the Doctor and spoke in a low
confidential murmur out of the side of his mouth. ‘Parlare
the carny, mate?’
The Doctor looked up and raised an eyebrow. ‘I beg
your pardon?’
‘Varda the bonapalone?’ persisted Vorg.
Unaware that he was being addressed in the secret
language of carnival showmen, the Doctor shook his head.
Vorg leaned forward. ‘Niente dinari here, y’jils?’ said
Vorg, warning the Doctor that there was no money to be
made on Inter Minor.
The Doctor sighed, and spoke very slowly and clearly. ‘I
am sorry. I do not understand your language.’
Vorg gave him a nudge. ‘Come on, you understand all
right. You’re a showman, aren’t you, just like me?’
The Doctor looked thoughtfully at him, taking in the
rather seedy flamboyance of the well-worn costume. ‘So
you’re a showman, are you?’
Vorg swept him a splendid bow. ‘Allow me to introduce
myself. I am the Great Vorg, renowned Intergalactic
Entertainer. This is my assistant, Shirna.’
The Doctor returned the bow. ‘Delighted to meet you. I
am called the Doctor.’
‘That’s right,’ said Vorg cheerfully. ‘Nothing like a title.
Doctors, Professors, that always brings in the crowd. I
knew you were a showman.’
The Doctor decided it wasn’t worth trying to disillusion
him. ‘I gather you’re in charge of this device?’
‘That’s right. Something wrong?’
‘A great deal is wrong. A young friend of mine is still
trapped in there, and I’ve got to find some way of getting
her out. Now, where’s the inspection-hatch?’
Vorg took it off for him. ‘I shouldn’t put your hand
inside, Doctor. Those Drashigs can take a lump right out
of you.’
‘Drashigs?’ The Doctor frowned. ‘I take it that’s the
name of those creatures that attacked us in the swamp?’
Shirna nodded. ‘Trouble is some of them followed you
out of their own circuit, and they seem to be running wild
inside. Doing terrible damage, aren’t they, Vorg?’
Vorg nodded sadly, looking at the flickering display of
warning lights on the Scope’s control-panel. ‘I reckon
they’ve wrecked the stato-fields. I’m probably going to lose
the entire collection. Be a real tragedy that would. My
insurance doesn’t cover replacement of livestock.’
The Doctor looked at him appalled. ‘Livestock! Are you
aware that there are human beings in there?’
‘That’s right. Terrans, Ogrons, Drashigs, Cybermen, Ice
Warriors—marvellous collection...’
The Doctor lifted Vorg off his feet and shook him
angrily. ‘The collection of the simplest animal life-forms is
a dubious enough pursuit at best, sir,’ he thundered. He
gave Vorg another shake, rattling his teeth. ‘But the
collection of intelligent, civilised life-forms is a positive
crime! I warn you, I intend to put an end to this
disgraceful machine of yours!’ He set Vorg down with a
thump.
Vorg backed hurriedly out of reach, smoothing down
his lapels. ‘No need to get excited,’ he said reproachfully.
‘Besides, you needn’t worry about the Scope. It’s putting an
end to itself.’
The Doctor leaned over the control-panel. ‘I’ve been
trying to interpret the warning-light display. Can you tell
me exactly what it means?’
‘The machine’s packing up,’ said Vorg glumly. ‘It’s as
simple as that. All the life-support systems are going to
break down soon.’
‘It’s just ticking over now,’ confirmed Shirna. ‘The
power level’s almost down to critical.’
The Doctor realised things were even worse than he
feared. ‘How long do you think it will last?’
Vorg shrugged. ‘No idea. Can’t be much longer.’
The Doctor spoke, almost to himself. ‘And when power
drops below critical, the artificial life-support systems will
fail—and every living creature inside the Scope will die!’
11
Return to Peril
On board the S.S. Bernice, the hunt for Jo Grant went on.
There was nothing very serious or dramatic about it. With
the aggrometer turned off the passengers and crew had
long ago reverted to their amiable selves. They weren’t too
worried about one very small girl stowaway. The hunt was
conducted rather like a jolly game of hide and seek, with
excited shouts whenever Jo was spotted and ran to some
other hiding place.
Neither Jo nor her pursuers knew of the danger which
loomed over them all. Once the Scope power dropped
below critical, their artificial world would come to a
sudden end. The tropical sun would go out, there would be
no light, no warmth and eventually no air. Their world,
and their lives, would end in choking darkness.
Hearing the sound of approaching feet, Jo jumped from
the lifeboat where she’d been hiding and sprinted across
the deck. She ran to the chain-locker, pulled it open and
squeezed inside. Her diminutive size was a great advantage
in the game. Several times her pursuers had ignored her
hiding places, assuming no one could squeeze into so small
a place.
She heard footsteps on the deck outside the chain-
locker, then Andrews’s voice. ‘Any sign of her?’ Daly’s
voice answered. ‘Not a bally trace, old boy.’ ‘Never mind,
she’s got to be somewhere. We’ll just have to carry on
looking.’
The footsteps moved away.
Although the chain-locker was a very good hiding place,
it was also cold, dark and damp, and Jo soon got bored
with it. She decided to make for the hold. If the Doctor
came back to look for her, as she was sure he eventually
would, that would be the best place to wait for him.
She slipped out of the locker and crept across the deck.
No one was in sight. Andrews and Daly must be searching
some other part of the ship. She found a hatchway, opened
it and climbed down into the darkness of the hold.
Even in the dim light she could see the devastation left
by the Drashig attack. There was a great gaping hole in one
wall, and boxes and crates were scattered everywhere.
Surely Andrews and the others would notice all this? Or
possibly not. Their mental conditioning seemed to block
out everything that didn’t conform to their picture of
ordinary shipboard life.
Jo wondered if the Doctor might still be hiding. Maybe
he’d been wounded in the battle with the Drashigs and was
lying helpless somewhere. ‘Doctor,’ she called softly.
‘Doctor, are you there?’
Andrews stepped out from behind a pile of crates,
grinning broadly. ‘Got you, my girl,’ he said cheerfully. He
moved in front of the ladder, blocking her escape.
‘All right,’ said Jo. ‘I know the routine.’
Sure enough, the routine was exactly the same. She was
taken first to the saloon, for a little chat with Major Daly
and Clare (both of whom reacted as if they were meeting
her for the first time), and then to Daly’s cabin.
Andrews unlocked the door and threw it open. ‘In you
go, my girl. You’ll stay here...’
‘Until the Captain can find time to see me, and it may
be some time because he’s a very busy man,’ chanted Jo.
‘All right, I know.’
Andrews gave her a rather puzzled look. ‘That’s right.
Just you be a sensible girl.’ He closed and locked the door.
Jo listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps.
‘Well, here we go again,’ she said. Producing her skeleton
keys, she got to work on the door.
Lurking behind their usual pillar. Kalik and Orum
watched the Doctor at work on the Scope.
‘What is the Terran doing?’ asked Orum with his usual
mild curiosity.
‘Trying to rescue its companion, one imagines,’ said
Kalik impatiently. The strain of waiting was beginning to
get on his nerves. The Drashigs were being uncommonly
slow to get out of the Scope and cause the havoc which
Kalik needed for the start of his revolution.
The two Lurmans and the Scope were due to be taken
off the planet soon. It would be of no use to Kalik if the
Drashigs’ escape took place on some cargo-rocket. It had to
happen here, in the City.
Orum watched fascinatedly as the Doctor, coat off and
sleeves rolled up, worked feverishly. ‘The Terran is
evidently concerned for its companion,’ he observed.
‘Clearly they are social creatures.’
‘And harmless,’ added Kalik sourly. It would have
suited his purposes better if the Doctor had fangs and
claws.
Orum looked across to the Eradicator, where Pletrac
stood obstinately on guard. ‘Pletrac is suspicious,’ he said,
stating the obvious with his usual maddening calm. ‘If it
occurs to him to check over the Eradicator, he will discover
that one has rendered it useless.’
‘You worry too much, Orum.’
‘Possibly so, Kalik. But President Zarb, liberal as he is,
still enforces the death penalty for acts of treason.’
Kalik considered. ‘Perhaps, Orum, you have a point,’ he
conceded. ‘Do you have the part you removed from the
Eradicator?’
‘The Trizon Focuser? Yes, I have it here.’
‘Then we shall conceal it in the Vorg’s baggage,’ said
Kalik. ‘If anything does go wrong—one of us can always
discover it.’
A slow smile spread over Orum’s face. ‘Brilliant. We
shall blame everything on Vorg. Then he will be the one to
be executed.’
‘Naturally,’ said Kalik. ‘It is a fitting fate for an alien
spy and saboteur.’
They began drifting closer to the Scope.
Vorg was watching worriedly as the Doctor worked,
head poked deep inside the Scope’s inspection-hatch. ‘He
could lose that long nose of his, you know, just like that. If
there’s a Drashig about...’ Vorg made a snapping motion
with his fingers.
‘Vorg, look! ‘ Shirna pointed downwards. One of the
base panels of the Scope was vibrating regularly —as if
something was pounding against if from the inside. ‘There
are Drashigs about all right. Vorg. Down there. They’ve
reached the outer hull of the Scope. If they get out... they’ll
expand to full size and...’
Shirna’s voice was rising hysterically. Vorg shushed her.
‘Come on, my girl, this is where we beat it.’
Shirna hesitated. She was a kind-hearted girl, and felt
they ought at least to warn the Doctor. Vorg pulled her
away.
‘Never mind him. He’s so high and mighty, he can look
after himself.’
With elaborate casualness, Vorg and Shirna began
strolling across the Spaceport. As they neared the
Eradicator, Pletrac stepped out, barring their way. ‘Where
are you going?’
‘Ah, well, yes,’ said Vorg. He looked appealingly at
Shirna. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Home,’ said Shirna firmly.
‘Yes, indeed, precisely,’ gabbled Vorg. ‘We thought we’d
find a Lurman freighter and hitch a ride back.’
‘That will not be necessary. A special Transporter has
been ordered for you—and your Scope.’
Vorg shuddered at the thought of being shut up with a
Drashig on a spaceship. ‘There’s really no need,’ he said
hurriedly. ‘We really don’t want to give you any trouble.
We’ll find our own way home. Tell you what, you can keep
the Scope—you’re welcome to it.’
‘We do not wish to keep the Scope,’ said Pletrac
severely. ‘You—and it—will leave the planet in the special
Transporter.’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ said Shirna, ‘but really
‘Not at all,’ said Pletrac. Rather tactlessly he added, ‘In
any case, the Transporter will be disinfected before further
use.’
‘Disinfected,’ said Shirna outraged. ‘Now you look
here...’
Vorg was too worried to bother about minor insults. ‘We
couldn’t think of putting your worships to so much
trouble,’ he said ingratiatingly. ‘So if you’ll just let us pass,
we’ll...’
With surprising speed for one of his years, Pletrac
produced a blaster from beneath his grey robes. ‘You will
wait until the Transporter arrives,’ he commanded.
Vorg groaned. ‘Well, of course, if your worship puts it
that way...’
Pletrac waved the blaster. ‘You will go back, back, back!
‘ he ordered.
They went back. The plate of the Scope was vibrating
more fiercely than ever.
Since his attempt at self-preservation had failed, Vorg
decided he might as well do the decent thing. He sidled up
to the Doctor. ‘I wouldn’t stay too close to the Scope if I
were you. Doctor. You see, any minute now, the Drashigs
are going to...’
The Doctor didn’t seem interested in Vorg’s warning.
‘There you are, old chap. Now listen. I’ve managed to
patch things up a bit, but the life-support systems won’t
hold for much longer—there’s simply too much damage. I
need your help.’
Vorg shied away again. ‘My help? What can I do?’
‘I’ve got to go back inside the Scope.’
‘What? are you mad, Doctor?’
‘It’s the only way I can get my friend out of there—and
perhaps save the rest of your "livestock" as well. Now then,
you’ll have to trigger the compression and decompression
settings for me, right?’
Vorg tugged agitatedly at his moustache. ‘Trigger the
what?’ he repeated blankly.
The Doctor stared at him. ‘This is your machine, isn’t
it? I presume you do know how it works?’ Dumbly, Vorg
shook his head.
The Doctor looked from Vorg to Shirna appalled.
Shirna said, ‘He won it, Doctor.’
‘He won the Scope?’
‘That’s right,’ confirmed Vorg. ‘It was at the Great
Wallarian Exhibition. You know what crazy gamblers
those Wallarians are? Well, I had the magum pod
concession.’
The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair, wondering
if the strain was affecting his mind. ‘Magum pod?’ he said
blankly.
Vorg smiled reminiscently. ‘Surely you’ve seen it,
Doctor? The quickness of the hand deceives the eye? You
see, you take three magum pods and a yarrow seed...’
‘All right, all right,’ snapped the Doctor. ‘I believe I
have seen something similar. So—you won the Scope from
a fellow showman and you don’t know how it works?’
‘Well, I can manage the basic operating procedures,’
said Vorg. ‘But as for all this technical stuff.’ He shook his
head sadly.
The Doctor thought for a moment. ‘This Wallarian you
won the Scope from... did he give you a blue or green disc,
about this size?’ The Doctor formed a circle with finger
and thumb.
Vorg stroked his moustache. ‘Hard to say. He gave me
all sorts of odds and ends. Most of ‘em are in my old bag
here.’ Vorg fished out a well-worn plastic tool-bag, and
displayed the contents—an amazing assortment of
electronic odds and ends. The Doctor started sorting
through them.
‘What’s your plan, Doctor?’ asked Shirna.
The Doctor went on searching as he talked. ‘Well,
basically it’s. very simple. The Omega circuit on the Scope
is beyond repair. But if I link it to my TARDIS I can use
that as the master over-ride and reprogramme the Scope’s
Space/ Time continuum circuitry.’
Shirna hadn’t understood a word. ‘And what will that
do?’
‘Two things, I hope. It will expel my friend and myself
from inside the Scope. And when the Scope finally does
break down it will automatically return the other life-forms
inside to their original Space/ Time co-ordinates.’
‘You mean they’ll all go back where they came from?’
‘I sincerely hope so,’ said the Doctor. ‘If my scheme
works, they’ll arrive at precisely the same point of time in
which they left, and never know their lives have been
interrupted. But I must have that Omega by-pass disc...’
Vorg stuck a hand into the bag and pulled out a grimy
disc. ‘This what you want? Bit mucky, I’m afraid.’
The Doctor grabbed the disc from him. ‘Thank heavens.
Now, I’ll show you what I want you to do. Wait there a
moment, will you?’ He ran over to the TARDIS and
disappeared inside.
Near by, Kalik and Orum had noticed the vibrating
panel at the bottom of the Scope. In his slow-witted way
Orum had been pondering Kalik’s plan, and had spotted a
flaw. ‘Is it not possible,’ he inquired mildly, ‘that when the
Drashigs break out of the Scope, one will become oneself
involved in the disaster?’
Kalik said impatiently. ‘There is a certain minimal risk.’
Orum blinked. ‘One has no wish to be devoured by
some alien monstrosity, Kalik. Even in the cause of
political progress.’ He cheered up. ‘However, since there
seems little sign that the Drashigs actually will escape...’
‘Does there not?’ Kalik pointed to the base panel. The
vibration was perceptibly stronger now.
Orum shook his head doubtfully. ‘The outer plates
appear to be made of molectic bonded disillium. Their
strength is formidable.’
‘Indeed,’ snapped Kalik. ‘Then perhaps one should give
the Drashigs a little help.’
Kalik and Orum moved away as the Doctor came out of
the TARDIS, playing out lengths of cable and clutching a
kind of portable switchboard under one arm.
Vorg and Shirna watched him wire the switchboard into
the inner workings of the Scope. He straightened up.
‘There,’ he said.
Vorg looked dubiously at the tangle of wires. ‘Is that it?
It doesn’t look very safe.’
‘Oh, you’ll be all right if you don’t touch any bare
metal,’ said the Doctor casually. ‘Now then, Vorg, I’ve
made it all very simple for you. This is the phase one
switch. I’m hoping it will get me into the Scope at a point
very close to where my friend is. This is the phase two
switch.’
‘Phase one switch, phase two switch,’ muttered Vorg,
hoping he could remember all these technicalities. The
Doctor gave him a despairing look. ‘Now concentrate,
Vorg, this is very important. I’ll need all the time I can get
once I’m inside—and the phase two switch is the
dematerialiser. So don’t pull the phase two switch until the
very last minute, when the Scope is about to break down
completely. If you pull the switch too early, it just won’t
work.’
Vorg nodded, scowling in concentration. ‘Phase one
switch when you tell me, phase two switch at the last
minute. Right! ‘
Pletrac, who had been watching suspiciously for some
time, came bustling over to them. ‘What is going on here?’
Excitedly Shirna said, ‘The Doctor’s going back inside
the Scope to rescue his friend! ‘
Pletrac was horrified. ‘He will do no such thing.’ He
addressed the Doctor sternly. ‘You have come here
illegally. You will be sent to the I.C.C.A. for investigation.’
‘What’s that?’ asked the Doctor. Pletrac had the
aggravating suspicion that the alien wasn’t really listening
to him.
Vorg answered the Doctor’s question. ‘The I.C.C.A. is
the Inner Constellations Corrective Authority. You won’t
like it, Doctor.’
‘In other words it’s a prison?’
‘One has no wish to be unduly harsh,’ said Pletrac. ‘But
people like you must be taught that rules and regulations
are made to be observed. You are, it appears, something of
a vagabond.’
The Doctor grinned. ‘Oh yes, very much so,’ he
admitted cheerfully. Changing his tone he snapped, ‘Now
Vorg—phase one! ‘ The Doctor leaned as far in-side the
Scope’s inspection-hatch as he could get.
Vorg gasped stupidly at him for a moment. Then,
remembering his instructions and muttering, ‘Phase one,
phase one,’ he leaned over the switchboard and pulled the
phase one switch.
The Doctor vanished.
12
The End of the Scope
Pletrac was enraged by this fresh defiance of his authority.
‘Stop,’ he yelled. ‘Come back at once!’ What really annoyed
him was the fact that the Doctor seemed to have
disappeared inside an inspection-hatch which was
obviously too small to hold him.
With a flash of childish rage, Pletrac swiped the
Doctor’s rigged-up switchboard with his blaster. There was
a crackle and a flash. Pletrac jumped back, sucking his
fingers as the blaster flew from his hand.
Vorg and Shirna ran to the switchboard. The phase two
switch was a smoking ruin. Vorg sighed. ‘Well, at least he’s
back inside the Scope all right.’
Shirna said, ‘Maybe he is! But how are we going to get
him out?’
The Doctor felt a swirling dizziness, then he lost
consciousness for a moment as the compression-field of the
Scope sucked him in. He recovered quickly, and found
himself draped across a broken circuit, fairly close to the
tunnel that led back to the ship’s hold. As he made his way
through the interior of the Scope the Doctor was shocked
to see how quickly damage and deterioration had spread. It
was clear that the Scope wasn’t going to function much
longer. He had a strictly limited time in which to find Jo.
Jo had been waiting in the hold for what seemed like
ages. She was beginning to fear the Doctor would never
come. She sat with her eyes fixed on the octagonal plate in
the floor of the hold, willing it to move, but nothing
happened. She considered trying to climb through the torn
gap left by the Drashig, but the climb looked steep and
dangerous. And there was always the horrid possibility of
meeting another Drashig on its way up. She wondered how
long she could stay down here undetected. It had taken her
only minutes to get the cabin door open, and there had
been no one about when she’d crossed the deck and
climbed down the cargo-hatch. She was hoping that when
they did discover she was no longer in the cabin, they
would search the rest of the ship before trying the hold
again.
Jo’s reveries were interrupted by a metallic sliding
sound. She leaned forward. The octagonal panel in the
floor was moving back, and to her joy the head and
shoulders of the Doctor appeared through it. ‘Jo?’ he
called. ‘Jo, are you there?’
Sheer relief somehow made Jo irritable. ‘Well, of course
I’m here! I’ve been here for ages. Where have you been,
Doctor?’
‘No time for questions,’ said the Doctor. ‘Come on,
we’ve got to get out of here.’
He led Jo along the same route as before, down the long
tube and through the machinery towards the sheer drop.
Once they arrived, there was only the long climb down and
then they’d be free... In actual fact, they should be free
when Vorg pulled the phase two switch; if the Doctor’s
plan worked, they ought then to dematerialise outside the
Scope. But the Doctor wanted to get Jo out before that if
possible, just in case Vorg let him down, or something else
went wrong. He had no way of knowing just how badly
things had gone wrong already.
Urged on by Shirna, Vorg was doing his not very
competent best to repair the phase two switch. He had
never been much of a technician, but as Shirna had
pointed out, only the switch was really damaged—the rest
of the improvised switchboard was unharmed. And surely
a switch was a switch. Vorg seemed all thumbs as he
worked, but as her technical knowledge was even less than
his, Shirna had no alternative than to let him get on with
it.
‘How’s it coming, Vorg?’ she asked urgently.
‘Not long now,’ he grunted. ‘Just a few more
connections.’
Shirna took a serrated crystal strip from Vorg’s bag. ‘Is
this bit any use?’ she asked.
Vorg looked up at the strip and stopped working in
amazement. ‘I’m sure that wasn’t there before,’ he said.
(Vorg was quite right. Kalik had taken advantage of the
confusion caused by the Doctor’s disappearance to toss it
into the tool-bag.)
Shirna held up the crystal strip. ‘What is it then?’
‘Focusing Tryzon for an Eradicator gun.’ Vorg took the
little strip and sighed reminiscently. ‘Haven’t seen one of
these for years. Not since I served in the old 14th Heavy
Lasers. Our battery sergeant was a crustacoid mercenary
and...’
‘Never mind the military reminiscences,’ interrupted
Shirna. ‘Just you finish repairing that switch. The power’s
nearly down to critical...’
Vorg stuffed the strip in his pocket, and got back to
work.
They were almost at the top of the shaft when Jo started
slowing down. ‘Come on, Jo,’ urged the Doctor. ‘Not much
further now...’
Jo stumbled and fell. ‘Sorry, Doctor. Can’t seem to get
my... breath...’ Her head fell back.
The Doctor could feel his own strength flagging. It was
getting darker and colder as the Scope started to run down,
and the air was becoming dangerously thin. The Doctor
hoisted Jo on to his shoulders and staggered on.
In the passenger saloon Major Daly looked up from his
book. It actually seemed to be cold. Cold in the tropics!
And it was getting dark too. A freak tropical storm,
perhaps.
Clare ran into the saloon. ‘Daddy, what’s happening?’
she cried. ‘I don’t feel...’
Daly struggled out of his chair. It seemed to take a very
long time. Andrews staggered in and stood staring down at
Clare.
‘Give me a hand, old chap,’ said Daly reprovingly. ‘Poor
gel’s suffering from heat exhaustion. Should never have
brought her...’
He collapsed, slumping backwards in his chair.
Andrews knelt beside Clare and tried to lift her. Then he
pitched over sideways, falling across her body.
The three bodies lay motionless, while the little saloon
grew colder and darker...
The Doctor staggered along a metal-walled tunnel, Jo on
his back. He knew it was hopeless. Even if he reached the
rope, he’d never manage to climb down it, carrying Jo.
As the top of the shaft came in sight, the Doctor
slumped to his knees, lowering Jo gently to the ground.
‘The phase two switch, Vorg,’ he muttered. ‘Press the
phase two switch.’ He slid forwards on to his face...
All over the Scope life-forms were collapsing. Ogrons,
Cybermen, Ice Warriors... Only the indomitable Drashigs
hurled themselves time and time again against the base
plates...
Vorg looked up. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘This is the last
connection.’
Kalik and Orum were at the other side of the Scope,
watching the vibrating base plate. It was so nearly free
now... They saw Pletrac coming towards them, a Spaceport
Functionary at his side. ‘Too late, Kalik,’ said Orum
mournfully. ‘Pletrac is here. The Transporter has arrived.
There will be no rebellion.’
Kalik could not bear to see his dreams of power
snatched away—and all for the want of a few more seconds.
‘Orum,’ he ordered. ‘Go and delay Pletrac. I don’t care
what you say or do—just delay him! ‘
Orum was dubious, but obedient as always. ‘One will do
one’s best.’
As Orum moved to intercept Pletrac, Kalik grabbed a
crowbar from Vorg’s tool-kit, and began prising at the base
plate of the Scope. Busily finishing the last switch
connection, it took Vorg a moment to notice him. Then,
suddenly seeing what Kalik was doing, Vorg rushed round
the Scope.
‘Stop that,’ he yelled. ‘Do you want to get us all killed?’
Kalik, his face a fanatical mask, produced his blaster.
‘Get back, or you’ll be killed now,’ he snarled. Covering
Vorg with the blaster, he prised away at the Scope one-
handed.
Orum was trying to think of reasons to delay Pletrac,
but imagination had never been his strong point.
‘For the last time, the special Transporter was delayed
by a refusal of Engineering Functionaries to work double
shifts,’ said Pletrac pettishly. ‘Now, will you please get out
of my way.’ He sidestepped past Orum and immediately
saw what Kalik was doing—just as Kalik succeeded in
prising loose a corner of the base plate.
The Drashig grew so fast it seemed to materialise from
thin air. Once at its full terrifying size, its neck swung
round, its teeth gnashed. It let out a terrifying bellow at the
scent of so much edible flesh in one place. Knocking Orum
aside, Pletrac ran to the Eradicator. Seizing the controls he
swung it round and fired. Nothing happened. ‘Sabotage!
Run for your lives,’ Pletrac screamed.
The advice was unnecessary. Everyone in the Spaceport
was already running.
Kalik sprinted across the Spaceport, the Drashig at his
heels, its claws scrabbling on the smooth floor.
Kalik stumbled and rolled over. The Drashig’s head
swooped down, and Kalik swung wildly with the crowbar.
The Drashig ate him, crowbar and all. Its appetite barely
whetted, the Drashig swung round in quest of more prey.
Shirna stood beside the Scope too terrified to move. The
Drashig bore down on her.
Afterwards Vorg could never understand how he
managed to move so quickly. He’d watched everything in
bemused amazement, Kalik prising off the plate, the
Drashig materialising, Pletrac’s attempt to use the
Eradicator, Kalik’s sudden and horrible death... All at once
Vorg realised what he had to do. Grabbing Shirna by the
hand, he dragged her across to the Eradicator, thrusting
her down behind it for shelter. Jumping into the control
seat, he took the Tryzon Focuser from his pocket. slid it
into the mechanism, swung round the Eradicator nozzle
and fired...
By now the Drashig was almost upon him and the full
blast of the Eradicator beam took it straight between the
slavering jaws. The Drashig bellowed, glowed bright red,
then disappeared, completely disintegrated by the
Eradicator beam.
There was another fearsome bellow, and Vorg saw a
second Drashig bearing down upon him. With calm
professionalism, Vorg swung the Eradicator on to the new
target and pressed the firing button...
One by one the Drashigs came from the machine,
shooting up to full size. One by one Vorg blasted them into
nothingness. When the last monster was disposed of, Vorg
stepped down from the gun, dusting his hands together.
‘Well,’ he said casually. ‘That’s that!’
Shirna straightened up, looking at this new heroic Vorg
with unbelieving eyes. Suddenly she shouted,
‘Don’t stand there preening yourself, Vorg! What about
the Doctor?’
They ran across to the Scope. Vorg looked at the dials
all flickering on their lowest readings. ‘It’s too late,’ he said
sadly. ‘I finished repairing the switch, but there’s no power
to work it.’
‘At least we can try,’ said Shirna.
Vorg threw the switch. ‘It’s no use—the power’s
completely gone...’ He paused, listening. ‘No, wait a
minute...’
A faint hum of power was coming through the Doctor’s
keyboard. It grew in strength as the failing Scope was able
to draw power from the TARDIS console. Slowly the
power-hum began to build, till the Scope was vibrating
with energy.
In the misty swamp, a Drashig raised its head, bellowed—
and vanished.
The prostrate bodies of Major Daly, his daughter Clare and
young Lieutenant Andrews faded quietly away from the
saloon of the S.S. Bernice.
All over the Scope, in all the different circuits, Ogrons,
Cybermen, Ice Warriors and a variety of other life-forms
faded away, to reappear back on their original planets.
Deep inside the machinery of the Scope, the bodies of Jo
and the Doctor dematerialised...
... to appear in the Spaceport of Inter Minor, sprawled at
the base of the TARDIS, just as the Doctor had planned.
They recovered consciousness to find a delighted Vorg and
Shirna standing over them. Helped by the two Lurmans,
Jo and the Doctor got to their feet. Vorg shook the Doctor
enthusiastically by the hand. ‘It worked, Doctor, it
worked,’ he shouted.
The Doctor grinned. ‘So I see. You cut it a bit fine,
didn’t you?’
Vorg gave a modest smile. ‘As a matter of fact, Doctor,
we had a little trouble here—but I dealt with it.’
Jo recovered to find the Doctor and a lot of oddly-
dressed strangers smiling down at her. The Doctor lifted
her to her feet. ‘It’s all right, Jo, we made it!’ He pointed to
the TARDIS just behind them.
Jo gave a sigh of relief. ‘What about all the others
though?’ she asked. ‘The people on the ship?’
The Doctor was putting on his coat. ‘They’re all right
too,’ he said. ‘I reversed the Scope’s original settings and
linked them to the TARDIS. They should all be back on
their ship.’
‘The real ship this time? The real S.S. Bernice, sailing
the real Indian Ocean, back in the year nine-teen twenty-
six?’
The Doctor nodded. ‘Exactly!’
Jo smiled. ‘I’m glad about that. I grew quite fond of
them all in the end. Won’t that mean changing history
though?’
The Doctor waved his hand airily. ‘Only in a few very
small details.’
Propped up in his bunk, Major Daly finished the last page
of his book. There was a tap on the cabin door, and his
daughter Clare came in. ‘It’s only me. I’ve come to say good
night.’
Daly yawned. ‘I’ve been reading,’ he said sleepily.
‘Actually managed to finish my book. Seems like the
longest one I ever read.’
Clare nodded, gazing through the porthole at the setting
sun. ‘It does seem to have been a long trip somehow...’
Daly tapped his book. ‘Disappointing ending. Chap
decided to become a missionary. Thought he’d marry the
girl.’
Clare smiled. ‘You’re an old romantic, Daddy. I’ll bet all
your stories about the East are just romances.’
‘See for yourself, soon. Bombay tomorrow.’
Clare stood up. ‘I’m really looking forward to that.’ Daly
smiled slyly. ‘Not sure young Andrews is—he wouldn’t
care how long this trip lasted.’
Clare laughed. ‘That’s what I mean. You’re a romantic!
Good night, Daddy.’ She kissed his cheek and went out of
the cabin.
Daly yawned again. He reached out for his calendar and
crossed off the last day of the voyage, then settled down to
sleep. As he was drifting off, strange pictures floated
through his mind. He heard the roar of guns, and the
bellowing of monsters. There was something about a tall
white-haired man, and a small girl with fair hair...
stowaways... Daly couldn’t make any sense of it. Must be
jumbled memories of some blood and thunder story he’d
read a long time ago. Soon he was peacefully asleep. The
S.S. Bernice steamed steadily towards Bombay.
Surrounded by an admiring audience of Officials and
Functionaries, Vorg was telling the story of his valour for
the hundreth time. ‘... then came the second Drashig,
barrelling-in at ninety degrees. It was so close I could feel
its breath. So I swung like this, see, and gave it a quick
burst. Then the third—I got that one with a snap shot...’
‘Indeed we are all very grateful,’ interrupted Pletrac
politely. ‘Your valour will long be remembered.’
‘It will if he has anything to do with it,’ muttered
Shirna.
‘Think nothing of it,’ Vorg was saying. ‘As an old
soldier it’s my natural reaction to stand and fight... Well, as
I was saying...’
The Doctor tapped Pletrac gently on the shoulder. ‘I
think it’s time we were leaving.’
Pletrac was horrified. ‘Out of the question. You must all
stay for the Court of Inquiry. Orum has confessed. He and
Kalik plotted to discredit our President. They sabotaged
the Eradicator and aided the Drashigs to escape.’
‘Well, there you are then,’ said Jo. ‘If you’ve got a
confession you don’t need an Inquiry.’
‘One must observe the correct procedures,’ said Pletrac.
The Doctor gave Jo a warning nudge. ‘They’re very hot
on correct procedures here, Jo. Better not argue—it’s a
waste of time.’
Pletrac gave a satisfied nod. At last the alien was
learning correct behaviour. Jo gave the Doctor an
understanding smile. They started edging towards the
TARDIS.
Pletrac turned his attention back to Vorg. ‘President
Zarb will no doubt wish to reward your valour with some
appropriate decoration.’
‘A medal,’ said Vorg happily. ‘How very kind.’
Shirna nudged him. ‘We can’t eat medals, Vorg. How
are we going to live now the Scope’s just a heap of old
junk?’
Vorg gave a confident smile. ‘Just you leave that to me,
my dear.’
As the Doctor opened the TARDIS door, Vorg was
turning to Pletrac.
‘Now then, old fellow, I’m going to show you a little
game.’
Pletrac gave him a puzzled look. ‘What is a game?’
Vorg was arranging three polished pods on the top of a
crate. They were circular and hollow, like little wooden
cups. He turned them upside down and produced a bright
blue seed, holding it up between finger and thumb.
‘Now, you see these three magum pods? I’m going to put
this yarrow seed under the middle one, right?’ Pletrac
nodded, completely baffled.
‘Then,’ said Vorg in a hypnotic voice, ‘I move the
magum pods about very slowly, like so... Now, which one is
the seed under?’
‘There is no possible doubt,’ said Pletrac unhesitatingly.
‘This one!’
‘Quite right,’ said Vorg encouragingly, lifting up the
pod. ‘Now then, care to try again? How about a little wager,
just to add interest?’
He replaced the seed, and moved the pods about.
‘Very well,’ said Pletrac obligingly. ‘We will wager one
credit-bar. The seed is under—this one!’ He was wrong.
Pletrac was indignant. ‘We shall play again,’ he insisted.
‘One was too hasty. One will not be mistaken a second
time.’
‘Another small wager,’ suggested Vorg casually.
‘Increase the stake a bit?’
Pletrac frowned. It was intolerable that he, a senior
Official of Inter Minor, should be bested in such a simple
game. ‘Most certainly,’ he said. ‘One will wager five—no
ten credit-bars that one’s judgement is correct.’
Vorg beamed and winked at Shirna. ‘I think I’m going
to like it here, Pletrac old fellow. I can see you Minorans
are great sportsmen. You remind me of the Wallarians...’
Jo had been watching in fascination. The Doctor tapped
her on the shoulder. ‘Time to be off, Jo.’
She smiled. ‘No need to worry about Vorg, is there?
He’ll probably end up President!’
‘That or Chancellor of the Exchequer,’ agreed the
Doctor.
They slipped inside the TARDIS.
It caused another mild panic when the TARDIS
dematerialised. Officials and Functionaries jumped back in
alarm. Shirna smiled rather tearfully, and waved good-bye.
Commissioner Pletrac didn’t even notice. He was trying
to work out how he’d managed to pick the wrong magum
pod yet again..
Document Outline
- Front cover
- Rear cover
- Title page
- Copyright
- Contents
- 1 Dangerous Arrivals
- 2 The Monster from the Sea
- 3 The Giant Hand
- 4 Trapped!
- 5 Inside the Machine
- 6 The Monster in the Swamp
- 7 ‘Nothing escapes the Drashigs’
- 8 The Battle on the Ship
- 9 Kalik Plans Rebellion
- 10 The Doctor Takes Over
- 11 Return to Peril
- 12 The End of the Scope
Wyszukiwarka
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